One For Truth, The Other For Lies
by TheGreatAmazingBanana
Summary: Pitted against the Lord of Darkness and tasked with stopping the rise of the dreaded castle, Cheshire is convinced to join a group of heroes in order to pay off an old debt. But her gift and her curse draws some unwanted attention...
1. Chapter 1

**Hello All!**

**Castlevania is easily one of my favorite series of just about anything. I thought it was time to write my own little story. Mostly to just get it out of my head, but hopefully someone out there enjoys it! Rated M for a lot of violence, and later on, sexy bits. I'll post warnings when it gets there, don't worry.**

**This isn't based on any particular game, but Castlevania in general. The characters I DON'T own should be pretty apparent. If you enjoy, pop me a line so I know someone's listening.**

**Enjoy!**

* * *

"This… is an extraordinarily bad idea," she muttered under her breath. Apparently just loud enough for Shane to overhear, even over the rain that seemed to make the night all the gloomier.

"If you want to turn around and go back, you are more than welcome," he bit from inside his helm. His voice was muffled and tinny sounding from inside the metal that fully obscured his face, but she didn't need any help to know he was glaring at her. "Do try to have a little _faith,_" he finished bitterly.

"Watch yourself, boy. Cheshire's only guilty of saying what most of us are thinking," grumbled Yoseph, the older man to Shane's left. Yoseph pulled back the hood of his cloak and looked back at her with a 'please stop making this worse,' expression. Cheshire sighed, and looked away, wishing she hadn't opened her mouth.

"The castle is… certainly impressive," the young girl to Cheshire's left chimed in, and shot her a beaming and kind smile. _Ah, Sarah, the healer, always trying to make everything better. _Cheshire did her best to smile back, and hoped it didn't look too fake. But it was hard to be genuine, considering the circumstances.

Looking back up at the 'impressive' castle, Cheshire felt the dread well up in her again. It cut a sharp contrast against the gloomy sky, even in the darkness of the rain, the slight glow of the moonlight gave it the appearance of jagged, broken nails clawing at the sky. Its spinnerets and bridges promised danger - and a lot of walking. _And a lot of getting lost,_ Cheshire commented to herself.

"Yoseph, we should move on," added the voice of the final companion in their group - Larissa. Her regal stature was impervious to even the rain, it seemed. Her carefully braided hair coiled underneath the hood of her cloak, and not a single strand seemed out of place.

"Agreed. We shouldn't linger," Yoseph reminded, and nudged his heavy boots into the sides of his horse, and the group trod on ahead. With each plod of the horse's hooves into the muck, the animals became more and more on edge - Cheshire couldn't blame them.

They trod on in silence, each lost in their own thoughts, until a wolf howled from the woods to their right. That was enough for the horses. Yoseph's steed bucked, whinnied and tossed it's head. Cheshire's horse side-stepped, and danced nervously.

"We may have to continue on foot," Shane growled from underneath his helmet, gripping the reins of his horse.

"Don't be silly," Yoseph laughed half-heartedly. "We'd never make it on foot. But we have another plan." Yoseph patted the neck of his horse, who wasn't buying it, and tossed its head back and forth, snorting in fear.

"And what's that? Fly?!" Shane shot back.

"We wish. We didn't pack for that," Yoseph shot back a grin to Shane and the others - even in the darkness you could see the mischief on his grizzled features. "Cheshire, could you fix this?"

Cheshire sighed. She knew that was about to happen, but still she paused, not sure what to say. Cheshire was always loathe to 'put on shows,' but… In her hesitation, Yoseph began speaking again. "Come on, now, this is why you're coming along with us," he chided gently.

"I'm 'coming along with you,' because I owe the Brotherhood is making me," Cheshire bit back, narrowing her eyes at the older man. Her horse whipped its head back and tried to turn around on the path, but she yanked the reins and tried to face it back in the correct direction - she succeeded in only stopping the horse perpendicular to the path. She was never any good with horses. This is exactly why cars were invented. Cheshire took out her frustration in Yoseph's direction. "I'm not here because I want to be."

"At least none of us want you here," Shane half-yelled from under his helm. Cheshire narrowed her eyes at the armored man, but didn't respond.

"Shane, leave her be," Yoseph scolded. "Cheshire, kiddo, we need to reach the castle. We can't go on foot. That leaves us two options. Turn around - which isn't happening - or have you 'fix' the situation in your unique special way."

Cheshire shut her eyes and sighed. "Alright…"

Yoseph smiled. "Good girl."

Cheshire shot him a look at that, but let it slide. The old man was well-meaning, if gruff and stuck in his ways. She tucked a strand of her dark hair behind her ear that had come loose in the rain. She placed her hand on the horse's neck, and letting out a low breath, she reached out again but this time not with her hand. But her mind.

Cheshire had not been asked on this fool's errand. She had not been _asked_ to join the convoy of 'heroes' that sought to 'investigate and destroy' the castle that had appeared in the Hungarian mountainside. The Order and the Brotherhood of Light did not 'ask' anyone to do anything. It summoned, and then it commanded. And Cheshire… wasn't in the position to refuse.

Vampire hunting. Really, that was what they had asked her to do. To join a group of 'vampire hunters' out to destroy the 'Lord of Darkness.' Cheshire had tried not to laugh when they dramatically read that out to her in the halls of the Order's monastery. Now, Cheshire believed in magic and all things that could not be seen. She herself was an example of the less-mundane in this world. But… vampires. They were myth. Rumor. Children's fables. And some magical appearing mystical castle of evil housing the Lord of Darkness and King of all vampires? Probably bullcrap. And yet, she 'agreed' to join the group to pay a debt.

And so, their convoy was assembled. Yoseph Van Buren, the grizzled warrior - and the only man alive who claims to have witnessed the castle's appearance fifty years ago. Sarah, the healer, who couldn't have been older than nineteen, with her bright blue eyes and charming smile. Larissa, who was one of the Order's own. Born and raised to be a vampire hunter - as ridiculous as that sounded. Larissa was beautiful - almost too beautiful to be real - and a sorceress. She had seen the woman launch orbs of ice from her hand like it was nothing. Cheshire wouldn't ever admit it out loud, but… she was a tiny bit jealous.

And then there was _Shane._ Who had no problem expressing his distaste of anything. The Paladin. The Warrior of God. The walking toaster-oven. The man was wearing full plate armor, hiding every ounce of the man from the rain. The metal glistened in the wetness and the dim light, and she thought idly that it had to be very humid inside that helmet. Shane walked the Righteous Path, and… had a problem with Cheshire.

'The Liar,' he called her. It burned. The names always burned. 'Witch, liar, demon, monster,' she had heard them all. The Order called her 'the illusionist,' but… it wasn't really the truth. Illusions could only be seen. Cheshire's power went much - _much_ \- deeper than that.

She reached into the minds of the horses, and re-sculpted their reality. She changed the world around them - how they saw it - felt it - _smelled it. _She whispered into their minds a world where the sun was shining, the grass was green and the path ahead was clear. She soothed their fear, told them that what they had just seen was a dream - and that they were now safe.

Cheshire opened her eyes and watched as the horses instantly calmed, sniffed the air, and watched one horse playfully bite at an imaginary butterfly that flitted past its nose. Cheshire's heart broke. She highly doubted the horses were going to live through this trip.

"That's better," Yoseph chuckled. "Come on."

And with that, they rode. The horses moved faster now, not afraid of where they stepped or where they were headed. They knew nothing of the encroaching darkness - they only saw the beautiful sunny field that smelled of spring.

They rode the horses hard - and for Cheshire, who wasn't used to horses - it was excruciating. She winced each time they jumped over a fallen log. The horses were tiring, sweating as they moved as fast as they could towards the looming castle.

"We have to keep moving Cheshire - we have to reach the castle," Yoseph yelled back over his shoulder. His instructions were clear. 'Don't let the horses stop.'

It was cruel - but they wouldn't feel the pain. The horses ran on, blind to their own exhaustion and suffering. It went on for what felt like hours - the driving pain, the rain, the darkness that surrounded them.

Finally, after Cheshire had been convinced that they would run like this forever, they burst into a clearing. The sound of hooves in muck changed to hooves on stone. The five riders found themselves on a stone road - a large, iron wrought gate loomed up ahead of them.

"Dismount," Yoseph yelled.

Cheshire basically fell from her horse, landing hard on the stone as her legs couldn't support her weight. She groaned in pain, and heard Yoseph chuckle. "City girl, huh?" he chided playfully.

"Ow," was all Cheshire could respond.

"You'll be alright. Bruised, maybe. Well, you could just whip up an illusion to make the pain go away, right?" Yoseph grinned.

"It doesn't work on myself," Cheshire responded dryly. "You know that."

"Eh, I suppose that wouldn't work at all, would it. Too bad for you, I suppose." Yoseph offered her a gloved hand to pull her from the stone, and she accepted it. The older man was stronger than he looked, and easily hefted her to her feet.

"The horses," Sarah began, having climbed down from her mount - and laying her hands on the neck of the sweating beast. "They aren't well…"

"We rode too hard," Shane began. "They won't make it."

"I could-" Sarah began, hopefully.

"No, Sarah… You need to save your strength for the rest of us. The horses have done their part," Yoseph interjected.

"But-"

"No, Sarah."

The young healer sighed and walked away, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders against the cold. Cheshire shook her head and turned her attention to the large iron gate. It had been created in the shapes of demons - and humans - twisting in horrible shapes up towards the top. The demons were rendering various… tortures… on the humans - whose iron faces screamed in silent terror. She heard Sarah whimper and turn her face away at the depictions on the gate.

"Meant to scare off the weak minded," Yoseph said as he patted the young girl on the shoulder. He walked up to the iron gate and gave it a shove. It didn't move. "I suppose that would have been too easy," he grumbled.

"Stand away," Larissa said, her voice level and calm. Cheshire turned in time to see her right hand burst into fire - and her left into ice. They all backed away as Larissa launched the ball of fire at the iron. It roared in an explosion as it impacted the metal, and its frame swung with the impact. The metal glowed bright. Larissa launched the second bolt of ice at the iron - and Cheshire ducked reflexively as the iron of the gate - first heated then frozen - shattered as if it were glass. The pieces of iron rained to the ground.

Sarah cheered.

Cheshire tried not to laugh at the young girl. She didn't want to remind her that she shouldn't be _excited_ that they were about to cross the threshold into the castle. Vampires or no vampires - this place felt _wrong_. The clawing at her gut, telling her to run, was almost overwhelming. Even if she had, she had no idea where to go.

"Come on, then."

"We just… leave the horses?" Sarah asked quietly.

"Yes, Sarah," Yoseph said firmly.

The young girl sighed and pouted - her eyes filled with sorrow as she looked back at the horses. Cheshire still held their illusion strong - but once she was out of sight of the horses, it would break. She tried not to dwell on what would happen to them when that happened… There was nothing to be done.

They walked through the courtyard and it… was silent, save for their footfalls on the stone. She had expected something to attack them - after all the talk of monsters and demons, it seemed wrong that it looked so empty and abandoned.

Shane had drawn his sword - a gleaming steel blade with a golden hilt in the shape of the archangel Michael. It was gaudy, Cheshire thought, but she wasn't a Paladin, so what did she know?

Shane took the lead, and Cheshire found herself walking in the back, really if anything to avoid eye contact with any of the others. She wasn't a social creature - she tried to stick to herself, and it made her uncomfortable to be around people. Her 'gift' had formed at young age - and it bred mistrust in others. And if she wasn't welcome company, she wasn't going to force it on anyone. And then there was the _other_ reason people didn't trust her.

"Shane'll warm up to you," Yoseph said. Cheshire jumped, startled out of her thoughts as she realized the older man was walking next to her.

"I doubt it," she replied quietly. They were still crossing the massive stone courtyard, towards the gates of the castle that loomed ahead of them. It seemed impossibly large. "I'd ask why he doesn't like me, but… I think I know."

"He was told of what you could do - they all were told, when we started off on this," Yoseph sighed. "It's not every day you meet someone who can rearrange someone's entire reality on a whim."

Cheshire shook her head. "That's not enough of a reason. They told them all what I did, didn't they." Only silence from Yoseph. She shut her eyes and let out a small sigh. "Then it's pointless. No one here will ever trust me."

"Aye, it'll be a hard struggle," Yoseph responded sadly. "But you can't blame them."

"No, I don't. I'll do what I can to help you all - with whatever it is we're really here to do - and… Maybe if you're all lucky, I won't live through this," she laughed darkly.

"Now don't talk like that," Yoseph put his hand on Cheshire's shoulder. It would have been more comforting if it hadn't been through his gloves, her soaked cloak, and her coat - but it was a nice gesture. "The Order knew you'd be important. You'll be what gets us past the worst of them - when some succubus is riding Shane like a pony, you'll be the only one who can snap him out of it."

"Ew… thanks for the mental image," Cheshire crinkled her nose and snickered.

Yoseph laughed, clearly glad he broke her out of her mood. "You make them nervous - they know they can't stop you, if you decided to mess with their worlds."

"And the eyes don't help," Cheshire sighed.

"Probably not, no. I'm used to it. They'll take time."

Cheshire half-smirked at the older man. She had known Yoseph for many years… ever since the Order had helped her. Ever since she owed them a debt. Yoseph was a 'priest' (the priests of the Order, a sect of the Brotherhood of Light, were a far different breed than the usual kind, trained with weaponry and taught to battle demons) - had been for thirty years since he had seen the fall of the castle in the 70's.

It was more for Yoseph's sake that she agreed to join the little brigade. She would do what she could to help the closest thing she had to a friend in a long, long time. And the only person who could look her in the eyes and not look away.

Her eyes were mismatched colors. One was pure white, with a black pupil in the center. The other, was her natural amber eyecolor - which was a deep brown in some lights and a bright orange-yellow in others. One eye to see the truth. The other to see the lies.

When she altered the reality of something or someone - when she took control of their senses and, to some extent, their memory - and weaved her 'illusions,' she could half-see what she created for them. Laid over the real world like a transparency. The Order believed - and she had no reason to suspect their theory - that her one eye was discolored due to her gift. That through her amber-colored eye, she saw the real world. And through her other, the discolored white eye, she saw the reality she created. It was unsettling, she was told.

Yoseph patted her on the back, and sighed softly. "You have to make up for what you did, to be forgiven in the eyes of God," he said. "They will shun you until that happens, and you must understand why."

"I understand," Cheshire replied. "I don't have to like it," she finished.

Yoseph laughed. "Aye, that's quite true."

"I do not believe my magic will work this time," Larissa interjected.

Their conversation was cut short as they had reached the base of the stairs that lead to the impossibly-tall wooden and iron door to the castle. It was carved in a similar fashion to the gate - twisted figures burnt into the wood, a warning and a celebration of what was inside.

Cheshire wrapped her arms around herself as she looked at the gate and had the distinct sensation that it was looking _back_.

Shane was climbing the stairs, his heavy metal boots thunking on the stone as he approached the door. He gave them a shove - and they didn't budge. He held his sword high and yelled. "In the name of our Holy Father, I command you to open!"

Nothing happened.

Cheshire tried not to laugh, and had to turn her head to stifle her snickering.

"Open these gates, demon!"

Nothing happened.

Shane snarled, and slammed the hilt of his sword into the door. Something crackled, and a blinding flash of light where it had met the door sent the armored man flying back, skidding on the stone as he struggled to stop his fall. Shane swore, and that was too much for Cheshire.

She couldn't help but burst out laughing - it was too freaking funny. That was apparently crossing the line for the Paladin, already embarrassed that he couldn't open the door. Cheshire's laugh was cut short in a yelp as the armored man wrapped a fist around the front of her cloak and yanked her towards his face. "If you find it so very funny, do you have any other suggestions, _demon?!_"

"She's not a demon, Shane," Yoseph half-yelled at the Paladin. "And unhand her, she is not the enemy."

Cheshire was never the smartest person when it came to keeping her mouth shut. She had long since learned that being the cynical wise-ass was more suited to her skill set than being the friendly one. "Have you ever tried asking nicely?"

Shane snarled from inside his helmet - his face hidden behind the emblazoned golden cross on the helm. "You are suggesting that I _ask for entry?!"_

"I'm saying it can't hurt to try to be _nice_ for once. How about saying; 'Please open the door?'"

"I should-" Shane began to threaten her again, but stopped at the sound of a large, metallic 'THUNK' caught his attention. Turning his head, they watched as the door slowly swung open. The giant wooden frame didn't even so much as creak as the doors parted, revealing a darkened foyer behind. The silent motion of the gigantic doors was eerie, as if the soundtrack had been cut off.

"See? I told you so," Cheshire finished with a spiteful grin, unable to not have the last laugh.

"It opened for its own kind," Shane snarled in her face before releasing her and storming to the head of the group to enter the castle.

Cheshire was shaking - the adrenaline and anger coursing through her. She pulled the cloak tighter around herself to try and stifle it. Great. The jackass assumed she was a demon already, and now the door opened when she asked it to. Either she had awful luck, or someone had a sick sense of humor.

"Try not to provoke him, would you?" Yoseph asked as they began to follow the enraged Paladin.

"Provoke _him? _He does it all on his own," she shot back.

"It's not wise to laugh at a man with a sword," Yoseph scolded.

"He called me a demon, and that's fine. I laugh at him, and it's my fault he was going to knock my lights out," Cheshire hissed angrily at the older man. "You play favorites, old man, I hope you're aware of that."

"Shane is our only hope in defeating this evil," Yoseph replied.

"That's no kind of answer."

"I'm saying that he can't help but be that way. _You _can help the situation by not laughing at him."

Cheshire growled quietly. "Fine." She paused as they followed Shane inside. It was wonderful to be out of the rain, even if they had just walked into the 'den of evil' as the Order called it. It was… beautiful, in a strange way. Its gothic architecture soared up into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling. Tapestries hung down from the stone archways, tattered with age and and faded. They swung idly in the breeze that flowed in from outside, the wind rustling a few papers tucked into the corners. The place looked abandoned. Cheshire looked back at her 'friend' again. "Aren't you going to wonder why the door opened?"

"Someone was listening," Yoseph replied quietly. "We have had eyes on us since we rode into the forest." His hand was on his gun, as his eyes scanned the darkness.

"There's no one here," Sarah piped up - she and Larissa had watched the fight without involvement. "Maybe we can go home?"

"I would not get your hopes up, little one," Larissa said gently, placing her hand on the healer's shoulder. "It allowed us inside… we are not alone."

"Very astute, of all of you," said a mocking male voice from the top of the stairs in the center of the foyer. A man stood there, tall, rail-thin, and impossibly pale. His eyes glinted red from underneath his short white hair. He was dressed in a tailored suit, the vest a brilliant purple set against dark grey. He bowed low at the waist and flashed a sly grin. "Allow me to introduce myself… I am Lord Crendo - and my lord Dracula welcomes you to his home…"


	2. Chapter 2

**If you like, drop me a line! So I know if anyone's out there. :) I build stories at a slower pace, so we may not meet all the players for another chapter or two. Stick around, it'll be good.**

**Chapter two - enjoy!**

* * *

Cheshire wasn't sure what she was expecting. Whatever it was, it was not a rain of bullets and to be forcibly shoved behind a statue. Her head bounced off the wall and she groaned as she tried to make sense of what was happening. It was a flurry of untrackable motion and noise.

"I am Lord Crendo… and my lord Dracula welcomes you to his home."

That is where it had gone wrong. The skinny guy at the top of the stairs. Shane had yelled something about 'to arms' and 'vampire!' and then all hell broke loose. The sound of battle was raging around her - steel on steel, the screams of… something inhuman. She finally shook her head hard enough to gather her wits, and stood up from where she had landed behind the statue. Cheshire hissed air in sharply at what she saw.

No, she most certainly wasn't expecting _this._

Creatures - part skeleton, part flesh, part… _something else. _They had risen up from the floor at the command at the 'man' at the top of the stairs. A few lay strewn, dead, around the floor. A severed arm lay on the floor near her - cut clean through, and she could guess by whom. Larissa shouted words in some other tongue, the floor lighting up with magical flames. Even Sarah looked locked in the battle, tendrils of white light flowing from her fingertips from where she stood.

Yoseph, meanwhile, was raining bullets on anything that even looked askance at him or his teammates. And there was Cheshire… standing, dumbstruck against the wall.

"Enough of this!" Crendo shouted. He disappeared in a swirl of black mist - and appeared behind Sarah. The young girl screamed as the man wrapped his long, pale and sharpened-nailed fingers around her throat and lifted her from the ground like she was nothing. He hissed and bared his fangs.

_Vampire._

That was all Cheshire could get through her mind.

Crendo leaned in for the kill - no one was close enough to stop him - Sarah was screaming.

"No!" Cheshire yelled. Reflex took over - she reached into the vampire's mind. Crendo froze, and blinked. His brow furrowed in confusion, and he opened his hand. Sarah collapsed to the floor as the perplexed vampire whirled around, seemingly looking for something.

"Where did she go?!" he snarled through his fangs.

"Run, Sarah," Cheshire cried loudly. "I don't know how long I can keep him…" The girl luckily didn't argue, and scrambled to her feet. To Cheshire's shock, the young girl ran to her, and hid behind her like she was a shield.

"Where did they all go?!" Crendo howled. "This is impossible!"

"What did you do?" Sarah asked from behind her.

"He can't see us… can't see anyone. As far as he knows, he's in an empty room... You just vanished in front of him," she replied quietly.

"Clever!"

"It was the first thing that came to mind," Cheshire smiled faintly.

Crendo sniffed the air, trying to find their scent but… nothing. Her illusion held. It was harder than the horses but… she was surprised how easy it was to control the vampire's mind. _Caught him unaware,_ she guessed.

Shane had pulled his blade from a corpse of one of the monsters, and turned his attention to the vampire. "Stand and face me!" he howled at the vampire.

"He can't hear you," Cheshire replied. "I'm blocking him from seeing us. Just… just kill him, before I lose control of him."

"It is dishonorable to-"

"Oh for the love of Saint Pete, just _kill the bastard!" _Yoseph yelled, having run out of bullets and now using two short swords against one of the monsters. Larissa stopped the monster's advance with a dagger of ice that flew from her hand, impaling the thing through the throat, and pinning it to the wall. Blood splurted from the wound, gushing at the release of pressure. But it still wasn't enough to kill it. As it still kicked and snarled, Yoseph silenced the monster quickly enough and drove his blades through the things eyes and into its skull. Finally, the beast stopped twitching.

Shane stepped forward, and in three strides, swung his sword like a bat and cleaved the vampire's head clean from its neck. It screamed and howled as it fell to the ground in a pile of dust, burning up in the aftermath of the paladin's blade. The vampire hadn't seen it coming - had been utterly unaware of what had happened to him. Cheshire let out a small sigh of relief.

Sarah hugged her arm, beaming up at her. "That was awesome! You saved me, thank you!"

Cheshire smiled back and was surprised at how genuine her smile was. That was the first time anyone in a long time had ever thanked her for anything, and she wasn't going to let it go unnoticed. "You're welcome," she said with a small chuckle.

"Oh! Larissa, you're hurt!" Sarah bounded away to help the other woman, whose arm was gashed in the attack. The little healer bounced from one thought to the other with alarming speed.

"I don't like fighting from the shadows," Shane complained to anyone who would listen.

"You'll have plenty of opportunity to show them just how good you are," Yoseph sighed and wiped blood from his sword. The last of the monsters had been felled. "Take your opportunities where you can get them. They'll be few and far between, boy."

"Hrmph," was the paladin's response as he cleaned his blade off on a piece of tapestry and slipped the blade back into his holster. Cheshire leaned against the base of the statue, lost in thought - trying to digest what she had just seen.

"First fight?" Larissa asked her from where she stood, the wound on her arm being slowly pulled back together by the magic of Sarah. The little healer was gifted - the wound was slowly closing like it had never existed.

"Yeah," Cheshire responded after a pause. "I'm not… I've never seen a fight before," she admitted quietly.

The paladin scoffed.

"You reacted well," Larissa responded, which Cheshire took as a true compliment. The statuesque woman rarely smiled or spoke, so a word of kindness was likely truthfully meant. "But it is good to know you are not weapons trained."

Cheshire just shook her head, and let her still-damp hair fall forward to obscure her face.

"C'mon, then, we've only just started," Yoseph said as he walked up the stairs, loading his revolvers. "We have a long… long way to go."

He wasn't kidding.

* * *

It had been days… Or at least, Cheshire assumed it had been days. It was hard to track time when the sun never rose. The moon made it's rotation through the sky, but it was never matched by its brighter counterpart. So, she tried to track time through the few hours of sleep that they could get when they made camp, or by looking at the occasional clock that they passed.

So, by her estimate, they had been in the castle for four days… maybe six. It was really hard to tell. Their battles went in a similar fashion to the first one - big monsters, lots of blood, some of it theirs. Each area of the castle that they explored was more spectacular than the last, in it's own unique way. Currently they had found themselves in a gigantic library, and Shane was tossing books into a flame to warm the cold, damp stone halls.

"This is a sin, to burn books," Larissa complained from where she sat. It was the tail end of an hours-long argument between the sorceress and the paladin about whether or not they should burn the books. The paladin proved to be the logical one here - but the sorceress insisted on reading through every volume before it met the flames.

Cheshire wouldn't complain, and didn't take either side. She just enjoyed the fire. The castle, so far, proved to be more cold than anything else. An unending damp chill bit them to the core. Sarah was shivering, huddled as close to the flames as the girl could without catching fire.

Cheshire shrugged off the heavy, damp cloak that she had been given by the Order, and joined the younger girl by the flames to try and bake off some chill.

* * *

Shane tried not to look. He tried to keep to his task of polishing his blade and his armor. But it was hard. By the saints, it was hard.

_Why am I to be faced with such temptation, here in the den of all evil? _He complained to himself. _Why would they send me on this task surrounded by _women? And here he was, with an angel and a devil as his companions.

Larissa - the beautiful statue. The stunning woman of ice and fire, who looked to be carved of pure marble. She was purity itself, raised by the Order for this singular cause. And yet, Shane - who was raised by the Order for the same cause - could never come close to reaching her. Indeed the closest he had ever come was arguing with her about the practicality of burning the books.

And there was his devil… the demon woman, the illusionist and the liar. Cheshire. The woman was leaning up against a rotted bookcase, her eyes half-shut as she dozed in the warmth of the fire. The red flames cast shadows on her face. Where Larissa was a cold statue, carved perfection - Cheshire had a sultriness to her that burned at Shane's soul. Her lips were full, and curved, and her mismatched eyes stared into his soul - stared through his mind. She must know his thoughts with how deep her eyes would stare. It was why they unnerved him so.

All four of them were from the Order - Yoseph, Sarah, Larissa and himself. The outcast was this woman, the demon, the _murderer. _He resented her for this, amongst many other reasons. The woman's dark hair fell in soft waves along her face - long in the front, short in the back, cutting a sharp angle across her pale shoulders. She was ill-dressed for such an adventure which bespoke her absolute lack of battle experience. A black tank-top with some manner of black-and-sheer striped top pulled tight over it.

Shane couldn't help but stare at the bits of skin that he could see through the sheer stripes. Shane scolded himself, but there was little he could do. He was raised in the purity of the Order - not allowed to fraternize with women, not ever. So he felt some part of indignancy towards the other part of his mind that railed against his perversion.

"Get some sleep, boy," Yoseph spoke up from his side. "Before your eyes fall out of your head," he chuckled.

Shane grumbled and folded his arms across his chest as he laid back. "Your turn, finally?"

"I suppose so. At least I won't be burning a hole into the ladies," he laughed quietly.

"I was not-"

"Don't blame you, boy. Raised in a Monastery. Enjoy the view, I say," Yoseph chuckled again.

Shane stared at his older companion, agog that his fellow member of the Order would say something so… brash.

"Oh, come now, don't look at me like that," Yoseph said with a smirk. "You can't adhere to the laws so tightly, boy, you'll die without experiencing half of life. But there's no harm in looking, trust me." Yoseph shoved him playfully in the arm. "Now get some sleep."

Shane watched the older man for a few moments before finally laying back and trying to get comfortable against his makeshift pillow (which was once a collection of dictionaries.) "Good night," he said after a moment.

"See you in a few hours."

* * *

It had been another two days of travel. Another two days of walking - fighting - walking - fighting - sleeping - lather - rinse - repeat. Cheshire was beginning to lose her mind, it felt like everything was bound to repeat. The only thing that made one fight really stick out from the previous was that she seemed to get hungrier and thirstier as they went. They were not short on rations, but the exertion was starting to wear on them all. Well, everyone except Yoseph, who looked like he was utterly in his element.

Cheshire sighed to herself, and clutched her cloak closer to herself. She really wished she had brought a change of clothes. She didn't expect that they would here for going on a week or more now. And all that time spent filled with brutal fights and walking.

They had not seen another vampire - not _really_ \- since Lord Crendo. They had faced monstrous things with fangs, who ate meat and blood and bone alike, but for a 'castle of vampires,' the level of vampires were remarkably low. Cheshire couldn't understand why, but she was somehow, in some part of herself, disappointed. The monsters were… fascinating in their own right, but there was something that intrigued her about the vampires - now that she knew they were _real._

But she had larger concerns right now.

They had been crossing a long and arduous bridge for the last half an hour. It wouldn't have been so bad if the bridge hadn't been half falling apart. Cheshire was clutching to a piece of metal that had once been a railing hard enough that her knuckles turned white. She tried not to look down - she tried not to look into the abyss beneath her. They were in the midst of crossing a hole in the bridge that had blown one side straight out - only a twisted metal and bits of rock along the other side kept the two halves connected. And here they were, trying to cross.

"What, demon, are you afraid?" Shane called from behind her. Cheshire inched her way along the broken piece of stone, sliding her hands along the piece of metal step by step. The wind whipped up at her and she tried not to shriek as it whipped past her face. "I'll carry you if you need it," he yelled again.

Cheshire had a fear of falling. A horrible one. She was shaking, and only adrenaline kept her hands gripping the railing. But like hell she was going to admit it.

"Bite me, tin can," Cheshire snapped back as she kept nudging along. The paladin only laughed in response, and was very clearly beaming from underneath his helm at her suffering.

Finally, after eons of slow progress, they reached the other side of the shattered gulf in the bridge. She staggered onto the more level stones and almost collapsed to her knees. But she couldn't let Shane see her weakness - any more than the look on her face already did.

She made her way to a statue - there were a lot of statues in the castle - and leaned up against it to catch her breath, trying to calm her heart as it threatened to pound her way out of her throat. She was alright with heights - if she knew she was safe. If she didn't trust it… oh, it was horrible. Her body had seized up on her several times, and only the insults from the paladin kept her moving. She wasn't going to prove him right, and wouldn't admit to herself that it was her anger at him that kept her moving.

Finally, her heart seemed to stop its progress out her throat and simmered back down to a functional level. Taking a wavering breath, she finally joined her companions where they had gathered not far away. Thankfully, they had let her put herself back together without pestering her. Really, her motivation was a desire to get off this bridge, and quickly. The wind was still whipping - and every time it did, her heart made a move to leap into her throat again.

"I say we camp here," Shane said - and she could hear the grin on his face even behind the helmet. Cheshire shot him a glare.

"Play nice," Yoseph scolded. "I swear, you kids'll be the death of me," he finished with a cynical smile.

"Camping would be nice, though?" Sarah added hopefully. "Not - not here-" she added at the look that Cheshire shot her. "But.. but, close?"

Shane laughed. "Yes, close, but somewhere less… high," the paladin finished, clearly still pleased with himself.

Cheshire would have complained or spoken up for herself - but it was a waste. Let the man have his fun, she supposed. Pulling her cloak - which was _still somehow damp -_ tighter around herself, she followed after the group. Yoseph hung back to walk with her.

There was a long silence as they walked. "You alright, kiddo?"

"I don't trust heights."

"I could see that," he replied. "We all have our fears."

"I wish…" she sighed. "Never mind."

"What?"

"I wish Shane wouldn't hound me constantly. I wish he didn't hate me."

Yoseph sighed. "He doesn't hate you, Ches…" he said after a moment, using an nickname of hers for the first time in a long time. "He just… you make him nervous. He's afraid of you, he won't admit it."

Cheshire scoffed. "Afraid, why?"

"If you… decided you wanted to control him… you could. He couldn't stop you. When you look at people - you look _into_ them, girl. It's unnerving. I'm used to it. Some people aren't. He probably doesn't trust the fact that you _haven't_ mucked with his world already," Yoseph said with a small shrug.

"If I had 'mucked with his world' - as you put it - I'd make him a friendly disposition. … At least towards me," Cheshire growled. "You know I haven't gone into the heads of _any_ of you. Only that vampire, and that other… big.. thing… that tried to eat Shane, and _still_ he doesn't trust me. I haven't done anything to him."

"I know, I know. I know you haven't gone mucking around with us. But he doesn't. Sarah seems to have taken a liking to you. Larissa doesn't like anybody, so don't feel bad," he added with a laugh, trying to lighten the mood.

She shook her head again. "I don't think I'll convince him."

"Maybe you will, maybe you won't. I wouldn't worry about it overmuch," he said with a smile. "He's a softie, somewhere under all those layer of metal and attitude."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she said with a faint smile. "Who knows… there's hope for anything I suppose."

* * *

"You insufferable _asshole!_" She snarled at the paladin. He had gone too far.

"Why don't you want to speak of your past? Does it bother you too much to talk about the lives you've taken, _demon?!" _Shane stood up from where he sat by the fire they had built. He had taken his helm off, and it was at least a nice change to yell into the man's face for once.

"Would you prefer it didn't bother me?! Would you prefer that I would _want_ to talk about it?!" Cheshire yelled.

"I- I- I'm sorry I started this," Sarah peeped meekly from where she sat, her knees pulled up against her chin. She had innocently asked why Shane called Cheshire a demon, and Shane had decided to answer… in full.

"She have a right to know," Shane snarled at Cheshire. "We all have a right to know what you're capable of."

Cheshire ran her hand through her hair and pulled in a shuddering breath. She was viciously angry - but couldn't do anything about it. "Why do you want me to be an outcast? I don't understand what I ever did to you, Shane. We're here, surrounded by things that want us dead, and you still try to pick a fight with me. Why?"

"Because you don't belong here," Shane said, low. "You aren't one of us." Cheshire let that weigh on her for a moment, and was shocked at how much it hurt. Shane continued talking. "You are a murderer. Your power is born of chaos. You don't belong with us. You murdered people out of revenge, and then lost your mind and killed countless others over half a decade. She needed to know."

Cheshire took a step back, as if she had been physically struck. She shut her eyes, and let out a breath.

"Boy, shut your damn mouth," Yoseph said quietly, dangerously.

"It's fine, Yoseph," Cheshire responded. "He's right." She clenched her fists at her sides. "Can't fault a man for being right…" Everyone sat, stunned. Even Shane looked taken aback at her response. "You should just be glad that those days are behind me, Paladin… or else I'd reach into your head and scramble it like so many eggs."

"Ches," Yoseph warned. She didn't listen.

"Do you know what I did to those people that I murdered, Shane? Do you know _how_ I kill people?" she asked, viciously.

"I-"

She didn't let him finish. "I murder people by convincing them they've died. Those people that started it all - the ones that killed my friends, and nearly killed me - those are the ones I was the worst to." Cheshire was ranting - and she was too far gone to stop now. "I made them feel what it was like to burn alive. I set them _on fire_ like they had done to my home - and what they had done to my friends. I chased them down, and I made their reality one of fire and death. _I burned them alive. _But if that isn't enough for you, Shane… I did it at half speed. I wanted them to _suffer._ I wanted them to feel the pain of their skin flaking off. Like they had so readily done to others. And when I was done? When the pain was too much? Their minds shut down. Their hearts shut down. I left them as corpses, untouched by smoke. You want a reason to be afraid of me, Shane? A real reason? There's one for you," she ranted. "I can make you believe your death so vividly that your heart stops beating," she finished in a low hiss.

The room was silent save for the crackling of the fire. Cheshire turned and began to walk away - to where, she had no clue. But she couldn't stay there. Not right now. Not with them all staring at her.

"Ches," Yoseph started. She stopped, but didn't turn around. He paused, clearly unsure of what to say. "Don't go far," he finished.

She nodded once and walked from the room and took a left down a stone hallway. The statues overhead stared at her as she walked. She wouldn't go far - but she needed enough distance so she didn't have to listen to them talk about what she had just said. So much for making progress.

She rounded another corner, and found herself in a small courtyard. The sky was open to the stars overhead, casting silvery light down on a small, ruined fountain in the center. The courtyard was largely overgrown, and the stone benches along the edges of the walls were cracked and overtaken with ivy.

It wasn't safe to be on her own. But she didn't have a choice. And if she was killed by a monster - Yoseph might mourn her. He would likely be the only one.

She walked up to the fountain and sat down on the edge of it. The statue in the center, a woman holding the second tier of the fountain above her head, looked forever heartbrokenly up at the stars - her features almost worn flat by the weather exposure. "I know, right?" she said morosely to the statue.

**_MmMmmmmm…. and whooooooo are yoooouuuu talking toooo?_**

Cheshire shot to her feet and whirled around, her eyes wide - something had spoken. Well… sort of spoken. She couldn't identify where the sound had come from. But there was no one there. "H… hello?"

**_You weren't talking to ME before, you were talking to Someone Else. Who were you talking toooo?_**

"No… No one… the statue, I guess?" Cheshire kept whirling around slowly - fear starting to build. But nobody was there… absolutely no one.

**_And they call ME insane! HAH._**

"Where are you…?"

**_Hiding!_**

It's voice was whispery and deep - and came from everywhere and nowhere. "Why…?"

**_Don't know._**

She paused, dumbfounded. She didn't know how to respond. Cheshire drummed her fingers on her thighs, and spoke up again. "Would you show yourself…?"

**_SURE._**

As… something… took form… Cheshire suddenly regretted her request. A hooded figure rose up from the ground, its tattered cloth that hid its head tapering off into… nothing… as it floated over the ground. Its hands were black talons, floating severed from its torso - connected by nothing. A slow grinning smile formed across its face from underneath the hood.. and she knew it was there, as it was glowing like the teeth of a jack-o-lantern. one glowing eye opened, and locked its gaze on her.

So Cheshire did the only logical thing.

She screamed.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry for the long delay - I'm going to try and pick this one back up. My work is nuts - but I will keep updating when I can! Thank you for the reviews, hope you enjoy!

* * *

Cheshire did the only logical thing.

She screamed.

**AAGGGHHHH!**

Now she was startled by it _screaming back. _It's one glowing red eye flew wide as its jack-o-lantern mouth formed a circle as it screamed with her. She staggered backwards, tripped over the edge of the fountain, and wound up on her ass looking up at the monstrous thing. It hovered over her - easily ten feet tall. Her scream ended in an 'uff' as she made contact with the ground.

**Are we done screaming? That was fun. But now you're having a sit. That also looks fun. You're weird.**

"What… what are you?!"

**Don't know.**

"You don't know…"

_**Most of us don't. Do you?**_

She paused at that, and wondered what it was asking her - did she know what _he _was, or did she know what _she _was? She didn't have an answer to either question, so she surmised the thing was asking her both. Insanity… and it seemed intelligence, flickered in the glowing orange-yellow eye that was watching her.

"Can't say I do."

It grinned wide, seemingly pleased with her answer. _**But it's not so bad,**_ it said, waving one of its large taloned hands dismissively. _**You get used to it in time. And I have a lot of time. You have less time. **_ _**But you're also sane. … So…. That… helps… I guess… and…**_ it began to trail off, not knowing what to say. _**You're fun to watch. **_ It finished abruptly.

Cheshire slowly got back up to her feet. The heavy cloak was tangled up in her legs and she decided to cut her losses. Unpinning the clasp at her neck she stepped out of the damp heavy mess and tossed it over a bench. If she had to run from this thing, she needed to be light-footed as possible.

_**No, no, no point in running, I'd catch you anyway. I'm not going to CHASE you, mind you, but if you were going to propose a game of tag, or whatever, I'm just saying I'd win, is all. **_It's toothy grin moved in sync with its voice, but… Ches still wasn't sure that its voice came from its mouth.

Cheshire looked at it, agog. "You… did you hear my thoughts?"

_**Noooo.. kinda. Sorta. **_

"Kinda sorta?" Cheshire tried to reach into its mind - tried to see if she could control its reality. If only just to displace her own location - to make it think she was just to the right of where she actually was. It was an easy self-defence trick she used often. She reached in - and it was like reaching into broken glass. She winced, and tried to shake her head free of it.

_**Ooh, see? I kinda-sorta read your thoughts the same way you kinda-sorta read my thoughts. Like pen pals! **_

"I'm not telepathic," she replied, finally clearing the feeling of shards prickling at her mind. The thing was insane. She had the misfortune of trying to control an insane person once - and she wouldn't repeat the mistake.

_**Yes, you are. You might not be all.. mind-ready, literally, but how do you think your power works? It's telepathic. I felt you, just there, being all… fingers in my brain. Didn't work too well, did it? You reach in, and you go all… string-pully. Rearrange people's thoughts. You're more creative than a normal telepath, but it's all the same.**_

"I suppose," she replied slowly. The thing was just… she couldn't control it - so she was defenceless. There was nothing she could do to protect herself. She had a gun, a simple .22 caliber semi-automatic handgun was on her thigh, but… she really highly doubted it would do any good against this thing.

_**No, it wouldn't. You gotta stop telegraphing your thoughts. **_It giggled. _**Although they're fun to read. Just like you're fun to watch!**_

"That's what the Order's mystics said. That I telegraph my thoughts too much," she sighed. "Good to know they weren't just giving me a hard time - now that I have a second opinion."

It laughed, a cartoony, high-pitched giggle that didn't sound like it belonged with it's whispery deep speaking voice. _**You don't telegraph them all, don't worry. Just your surface thoughts, like, 'I hate this stupid cloak' and 'I wonder what'll happen if I shoot it.' Y'know, silly stuff like that.**_

"Oh," was all she could think of to respond. They stood in silence for a moment, staring at eachother, and she waited for it to talk again. But… it seemed to content to just float there, single eye off-set to the left (she wondered about it's right eye, but didn't bring it up,) smiling at her with a lazy, toothy glowing 'w' of a smile. She decided to just ask the question that was the most obvious. "Are you going to kill me?"

_**Mmmm…. no. No, I don't think so. **_

"That's… reassuring," she replied, semi-sarcastically. It snickered.

_**You're feisty. Last person I spoke to was too busy crying than to ask questions. … I'm glad you're not like that. Weepy people are boring. Panicky weepy people are worse.**_

"Doesn't get you anywhere useful - then you're just stuck in the same problem, but now you're panicking," she replied - surprised at how conversational she was being with the big… wraith… thing. Well, as long as it was talking, it wasn't killing her.

_**I know! **_it responded, excitedly agreeing with her, waving its talons around in the air. _**That's what I keep telling them, but they don't listen! They're all like… 'Aaaaah!' and 'SHOOT IT' and 'die, demon!' Which - Oooh that's what I wanted to ask you, I remember now. **_

"Oh…?" she replied tentatively.

_**Mm, I forgot what I was here for, for a minute there. But now I remember. The paladin keeps calling you a demon… but you aren't a demon. You don't SMELL like a demon. You're human. I wanted to know why he calls you that.**_

Ches sighed, and put her hand to her forehead, and slowly ran her hand back through her hair. "Even the monsters of Dracula's castle bring it up. This is a hell of a day I'm having…"

_**Awww, it's a touchy subject, I know - I heard your little screamy match. You killed some people, kinda tortured them in a fun and unique way - whichI'dlovetoseepersonally atsomepoint but that's anothersubjectentirely,**_ it rattled off that last part almost too quickly to understand. It took an exaggerated breath before continuing. _**But it doesn't answer my question, because how does that make you a demon? People kill. People torture.**_

"It's…" Cheshire sat down on the edge of the fountain. If it killed her, there was nothing she could do about it - so she might as well let her guard down. Her 'guard' was useless. "I went to a… dark place, after I committed those murders. They weren't the only ones. … I prayed to the patron god of lies and chaos - I decided that if I couldn't have friends… I would have enemies. I went _wrong._"

The thing just floated there, waiting for her to finish. She wished she didn't have to, but… somebody said once it helped to talk about things. Here she was, spilling it to some weird wraith demon of the castle… but it was something, she supposed.

"The Order sent someone to kill me. They failed. Many times. I… have a lot of blood on my hands. Most of it theirs. I never killed innocents - but… they don't see it that way. The Order finally won. But they spared my life - saying that I could be 'saved.' I still believe it's because I was more useful to them alive than dead… But they helped me screw my head back on straight."

_**I suppose that's a good a reason as any for the paladin to hate you, yeah, I can see that now. **_

"Thanks for rubbing it in," she said, half-playfully. "But now you know. I guess the whole castle knows, after that. Are you going to go tell Dracula?"

**Hhrrm? Oh. No. We don't speak. We don't get along. Not as bad as you and the paladin, but, we… aren't buds.**

"You don't serve him?" she asked, genuinely curious.

_**Not everyone here does - the castle is… large.**_

"So I noticed," she complained.

It continued after giggling. _**Many of us serve the darkness, but not the King. I swear no fealty to him. I am just… a part of the castle. The castle serves the King, but… its people don't always.**_

She paused, thoughtfully. She looked at the thing in puzzlement. "How can the castle itself serve..?"

_**Ooooh, you know how… you've felt it already, haven't you?**_

She opened her mouth to speak, and after a moment, simply shook her head no.

_**Yus you have! You have. You may not know it. But you have. The castle serves it's master… If you were to turn around right now and head back the way you came - you couldn't find your way out. It constantly rearranges itself on whimsy and to suit the needs of the King. **_

Cheshire thought over its words for a second before it dawned on her. "You're… saying the castle is alive…?"

_**Yup! It is an un-living, breathing thing. Semi-conscious, sort of. It's like a big… venus… flytrap… of doooooom. **_It wiggled its talons at her on the last word, drawing it out in faux-drama.

Cheshire had to laugh at that mental image. The wraith laughed with her, seemingly genuinely happy she thought it was funny. "You're… not what I would expect to find here," she said after a moment of silence.

_**We'd surprise you, I think.**_

"Clearly," she paused again. "Do you have a name?"

_**No.**_

She looked at it, and watched as it's grin slowly turned to a sly, silly little smile. It was playing a game with her. But what kind? … _Ah, it wants to see if I can ask the right questions, _she thought. "Alright, I'll rephrase. What do people call you?"

_**Better! **_

"People call you 'better'?" she cut in before it could talk, poking it with its own game.

It snickered.**_ NOooo, that'd be an awful name. No. People call me Linger._**

"Linger, as in… that's what you do, so… that's what people call you?" she raised her eyebrow.

_**Pretty much.**_

"It's been… honestly, nice talking to you, Linger," she responded, repressing a shiver in the cold air. She was surprised at how much she meant it. "You're the first friendly… eh… face… I've seen in a while, present companions included," she responded, cynicism taking over by the end.

_**People suck. **_It suddenly giggled. _**Sorry, bad pun in a vampire castle. **_Ches rolled her eyes at its joke, which made it snicker some more. _**But if you believe in your mission, then, that's all that should matter to you, right? You're here for… redemption, it seems. I don't know why you couldn't just do community service, but… what do I know.**_

Cheshire shrugged. "I'm not that useful to them. Sure, I saved Shane from getting eaten that one time… and Sarah from the vampire… but… I doubt I'm the most useful person they could bring."

_**Eh… you'll see soon enough why you're here, I think…**_

"Cryptic, much?" Ches responded with a small laugh.

_**You think I'm bad? Cupcake, you haven't seen anything yet. I speak plainly for things that live here. **_

"Did… you just call me cupcake?"

_**Yup. What're you going to do about it? Nothing. That's right.**_ It's voice suddenly dropped, and all the humor and insanity leaked from its voice. Ches felt the fear well up in her again. _**Because if I wanted to… I could peel your skin off, piece… by piece… starting with the face… and you could scream all you want… and there wouldn't be anything you could do… **_

Ches found herself standing, backing away from Linger as it reached a pointed talon out slowly towards her. It floated after her, and backed her up against a statue as it spoke. _**Your power is useless against me, and without that, you're just a weak little human. **_ She gripped the stone with both hands behind her, unable to escape as it loomed up over her, reaching one taloned finger towards her. She shouldn't have stayed to chat - she should have run - she should have screamed or fought or - _**You are a plaything to creatures like us… a toy for us to simply throw aside when we tire of you... **_and with that, it put the sharp tip of a taloned finger against her nose. _**BOOP!**_

It floated backwards, laughing hysterically, and Cheshire stood there, shaking, adrenaline and fear coursing through her body. She was stunned, as it held its… sides… laughing in hysteria. It was messing with her. "You…. you asshole," she spat, all conviction lacking in her still shocked state.

_**Yoooooou're just pissed that I hadja going. That… was… you should have seen your face, cupcake! Alright, well, gotta run! Talk to you soon, sweetheart. **_

"I-" and with that, Linger disappeared through the floor, as quickly as he had arrived. Cheshire stood there, still trembling, and walked to the edge of the fountain. Sitting down on the stone, she let her nerves slowly settle before she would make her way back to the group. She didn't know which she'd prefer - Linger, or the paladin. One of them didn't seem to outright want her dead… and that was the wraith. What kind of mess had she gotten herself into?

* * *

Cheshire paused before rounding the corner - back to where her 'companions' were camped. She ran the conversation through her head - the way she had blown up, and… very thinly threatened Shane with imagined murder.

Half of her feared that they wouldn't be there when she rounded the corner. The other half… would have been relieved. It would spell her death, but at least she'd be spared the awkwardness and the vicious superlatives.

She toyed with her necklace as she decided whether or not to turn the corner - but really, what options did she have? To tear into the darkness with nothing but a piddly little .22 caliber handgun? She had her 'gift' - she snorted derisively at herself in her head. However long that would last her before she met some mindless beast that she couldn't control.

_And besides, _she reminded herself, _If what… 'Linger' said was true - I couldn't find the way out even if I tried. The castle will have rearranged itself. _She sighed. _So the only way out… is to kill Dracula. _She tried not to laugh, and leaned her back against the wall. _So there are two options… death, and retribution in death. _

She took in a slow breath and let it out in a wavering sigh. Ches knew this was a suicide mission, but… it had never really sunk in. The coldness of the stone made her shiver - damn. She had abandoned her cloak. Damn thing only served her keep her damp. But the desire to be by the fire - if her companions hadn't abandoned her - finally was what drove her from her place by the wall.

Turning the corner… she was honestly surprised to see them all as she had left them, gathered around the fire. Only Yoseph was awake - the rest appeared, at least, to be asleep. She walked closer to the fire, and sat down where she had been before her… words with Shane. She glared at the sleeping paladin.

"Y'know, you might've taken that all a step too far." Yoseph said quietly as he sat there, polishing his revolvers.

"I don't deal well when provoked," Ches muttered.

"I know," Yoseph said with a small smirk. "But if you wanted them all to trust you…" he said, his voice leading off to an unsaid statement.

"They won't. Not now, not ever. Even if that hadn't happened - they trust the paladin more. Shane's only proven his point. It's a pointless hope," she sighed. "I'll die next to them, hated. I'm beginning to accept it."

"You'll have one ally at your side," Yoseph said with a faint smile. "You and I have been through much."

Cheshire paused, and stared down at the fire. She was silent for a long moment. "Why?"

"Pardon?"

"Why do you care, Yoseph? About me, I mean…" Ches shut her eyes, and remembered her defeat at the hands of the Order - the night they took her prisoner. She deserved it, with all the people she had killed.

"Because you spared my life, girl, and in return, I spared yours. We're bound by that," Yoseph said idly, still cleaning his gun. "I didn't stand a chance against you - none of us did. If you had wanted to keep on your path of death and destruction, nobody could challenge you. Not even the Mystics. Our only hope was we'd catch you sleeping or…"

"Or that I'd give up," Cheshire finished his sentence. She smiled weakly, bitterness tugging at the edges. "I just couldn't bring myself to kill a silly old man who randomly spouts speeches of hope and redemption."

Yoseph laughed once. "Only time I've ever made a speech, girl."

"Well, you made it count. It worked."

Yoseph sighed, and put his gun down on the cloth next to him. "Since we're talking about it, I always wanted to know. That night, if I hadn't 'convinced' you with my shit speech… Would you have done it? Would you really have killed me like all the others?"

She pulled her knees up to her chest and sighed. She wrapped her arms around her knees and stared into the fire, thinking. "I don't know. I honestly…" She sighed again and shut her eyes. "When those… vigilantes burned down my home - When they set it on fire and killed my friends, and nearly killed me, they took away the only friends I've ever known. No one else has ever trusted me. So, I… decided to be the monster everyone thought I was. It's easier. For a while."

Yoseph was watching her intently now, she could feel it.

"Can you honestly blame me?" she finished after a long pause.

"No, hun, I can't say I do. The world tells you you're something long enough, it'll make it true. But," Yoseph chuckled. "I'm glad you picked that moment to change your mind."

Cheshire smiled faintly, and looking up at her 'friend' - her warden - and with a sigh, laid down on the meager roll of fabric.

"You help us kill Dracula, you gain your freedom, that was the deal."

"I'll be free one way or the other, as I figure… either from the Order, or in death."

"And so go us all," Yoseph said morosely.

* * *

"Blasted _heat_," Shane grumbled from inside his helm. From inside the plate armor, he much preferred the damp and the cold - not this infernal baking heat to which they had transitioned. He ripped his helm from his head to get a breath of - barely - cooler air.

"This castle is… unpredictable," Larissa commented dryly, ever emotionally removed.

"The castle is impossible," Cheshire replied. Shane wiped the sweat - tried to wipe the sweat - from his brow with his gauntleted hand. He swiveled his head to shoot an incredulous look at the dark-haired woman. _Demon,_ he reminded himself. She looked more than natural in the fiery glow of the pits below them.

A twinge of hatred swelled in him - and something else - he would pray for forgiveness this evening for the temptation he felt. But, he was a man - who strove for something more, but a man none the less. He loved Larissa - he had ever since he was young - but the Princess of Marble was untouchable - unreachable - and it was wrong for him to feel for her the way he did. He was a man of God. But the demon, the smoldering woman of lies a deceit - he did not love her. He _wanted_ her. He wanted her to pay, wanted her to suffer, wanted her to feel the wrath of God. But saints forgive him…. he _wanted_ her at the same time. All of the emotions confused him - the anger and the lust burned as one.

_She deserves it, _he thought to himself a she lead the group over the narrow bridge that crossed the pits of burning lava deep below them. _She deserves your hate. She has sent dozens of your kin to their deaths. _He kept his hand on his sword - furies had swooped down on them earlier - nearly knocked him to his death. The Liar had confused them, obscured their location on the bridge and it allowed the others to kill them. The demon had her uses. Indeed, they'd barely been touched since they entered, not between her skill and Larissa's.

But lies only last for so long, he reminded himself. The same goes for hers. He had warned Yoseph earlier about the very likely chance the demon woman would betray them to the darkness - to her own kind.

He was half-listening to the conversation behind him.

"No, I mean, it is _literally _impossible," Cheshire responded to Larissa's return question. "Think on it. We entered a tower, passed through one door... And now we are underground. That's… not possible."

"What are you implying?"

"That this castle… defies the laws of physics."

"Figured that out, girl," Yoseph said from near the back of the line.

"I'm trying to say I think it's spinning us around. I think we could walk forever and never get where we're going."

"The Castle doesn't _think_," Larissa responded.

"Are you so sure?" Cheshire replied.

Larissa was quiet for a long time. "No."

"You're telling me we've been walking for two weeks now - fighting our way through monsters - and we're walking in _circles?_" Yoseph snapped.

"Not circles - a labyrinth."

"And what makes you the expert on the castle?!" Shane finally interjected, turning his head to glare at the woman again.

"I can feel it. … I can feel it looking at us," Cheshire replied quietly.

"And how is it that you can do that, demon?" Shane cut sharply at her. "Part of your little… 'gift'?!"

"Actually, yes. I can feel minds. It's not… sentient.. but it's watching us."

"That's nonsense, you-"

"No, Shane," Larissa interrupted. "It's not. I can sense it as well, but have been… loathe to admit it."

That shut him up. He looked at Larissa, confused and… betrayed, almost. How could she side with Cheshire? He turned his head back towards the bridge and kept storming across. He put his helm back on his head to hide his face - he had a horrid 'poker face' as Yoseph called it - and he was glad to hide behind the metal.

"Good!" Yoseph threw his hands up in frustration. "We have wasted two weeks of starvation, dampness, cold, heat, blood, and walking. Do we have any other brilliant ideas?"

"Kind of…?" Cheshire replied after a pause. "I… we need to get into a fight with something big. Something big that… preferably… can fly."

"Oh, goodie…" Yoseph responded dryly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Drop me a review if you like it, or not - nice to know people are out there. :) **

* * *

"And precisely - and do be detailed - _what purpose is this supposed to serve?!" _Shane yelled in her face. Cheshire winced, and closed one eye as the paladin yelled at her.

"She can't answer you if you're yelling, Shane," Yoseph scolded.

Shane took a step back and sighed deeply. He may have stopped yelling at her, but he didn't stop attempting to glare a hole through her. They stood on the other side of a large, closed metal gate - they could hear the screeching of some great beast and the heavy leathery flapping of wings from overhead. The gate is all that separated them from a the stonework outcropping on the side of the castle. The outcropping - or giant balcony - would leave them utterly exposed to attack.

"This thing out there - it has a mind, a consciousness," Cheshire said, quietly. "And anything with a consciousness, I can control," she reminded him, keeping her voice even. They had barely spoken since the 'incident' around the fireplace eight days ago. It had taken them another six days to battle their way out of the underbelly of the castle - only to find themselves no closer to the center keep, which was always visible above the turrets of the maze-like buildings, but never reachable.

And so was her plan.

"You're positive. You're absolutely _positive_ that this _cannot _go wrong. You've _never_ met anything you can't control," Shane snarled.

"If it has a consciousness and understands its reality in a cognitive sense, then no, I've never met something strong-willed enough that I can't alter its perception," she insisted, keeping her voice even.

"We are about to step out onto that ledge… and risk our lives on the chance that this works," Shane growled again.

Cheshire shut her eyes, and couldn't help but sigh herself. This man had her doubting her own abilities - something that she had never done. Doubted everything else in this world, but not her power. "Then don't go," she said, finally.

"What?" Yoseph said with a blink.

"Just open the door. I'll do it alone," Cheshire said, and stepped towards the door.

"What?" Shane echoed.

"You won't shed a single tear if I get killed - as far as I can tell you're in a win-win situation. I die, and not by your hands, or we get an easy ride to the keep." Cheshire snapped at Shane bitterly.

"I-" Shane began, but Cheshire wouldn't give him the opportunity.

"Just open the damn door!"

"Ches I don't think this is a good idea," Sarah piped quietly, clutching her hands to her chest and half-hiding behind Larissa.

"It isn't," she responded. She clenched her hands by her sides. "But I don't need any of you for this. Shane, just open the damn door." She hoped she sounded more resolute than she was.

_It might tear you to pieces before you even get a hold on it,_ her doubts nagged at her. _Either way, this won't solve any of your problems. Even if you do this, they won't trust you any more than they already do. _She tried not to laugh. _Unless you die. Then, all your problems are solved. _Cheshire shut her eyes and ran a hand through her hair.

Shane had walked up next to her, and was boring a hole through the side of her head with his stare. Ches spoke up and saved him the trouble. "Just do it, paladin. If I am successful, you will know. If I am not, then, carry on with your business."

The paladin handed his helm to Yoseph - and walked towards the large metal gate. He grabbed it with both hands, and giving a low growl, shoved with all his strength. Finally, it groaned and creaked open - the rusted iron hinges not having moved in what might have been decades. _Or longer. This castle is a fiction, after all… it is what it wants to be. _Cheshire reminded herself.

Without another word or another glance, she stepped out into the courtyard and felt impossibly small. The stone statues on each side of the archway through which she stepped seemed… unfathomably gigantic. Each one seemed taller than a building. It felt like it would take her an hour to walk across the stone outcropping - each stone 'tile' in the floor was four times her height in length.

A sudden heavy weight of hopelessness - and her own mortality - settled in on her. What good could they do - what chance did they stand - against something that could control _this_? That was the master of something _this_ large and powerful?

_No, stop. _She scolded herself. _Men have done it before. Humans have stopped Dracula before. Many times more than he has succeeded. _And yet…

The flap of gigantic wings broke her out of her train of thought as something large circled overhead. It screeched again - smelling meat, no doubt. _Smelling us,_ her minded added, unbidden.

Finally making it far enough away from the wall that she could see overhead - and almost falling over from the height of what she was looking at - she caught sight of the beast. It looked like the cross between a gargoyle and a dragon - its huge wings blotting out portions of the night sky and the moon as it circled. She reached out with her mind… and for a split second, she faltered.

"_TIME TO DIE!" _she heard, bellowed in an inhuman voice from overhead. "Your bones will be crushed to dust!"

"Oh good," she muttered to herself quietly. Suddenly, she realized that the beast had changed directions…. it was diving down onto her. "Oh fu-" she began, but did not get the opportunity to finish.

The ground rumbled and cracked under her feet as the beast landed with an immense force. It knocked her clean off her feet onto her back, looking up at the purplish-black lizard-like monster that loomed over her. It raised a claw, ready to reduce her to pulp. "I am Shalaz!" it howled. "I am the ender of days!" It snapped its wings out with a deafening _CRACK!_ "I will destroy you!"

Cheshire looked up at the giant claw hovering over her, and somehow, in some way, in some unlikely way, she forced herself out of her fear. She reached into the mind of the creature - and seized control of its reality.

Shalaz, the giant monster, shook its head and snuffed angrily as it struggled against her. It was an ancient creature, and Cheshire struggled not to delve deeper into its memories and become lost in it - she took the reins of its perception and changed it to suit her needs.

"Shalaz, stop," she said, half-shouting to be heard from the thirty feet it stood over her. "Do you not know me?" she asked.

The dragon-like beast shook its head again like a horse, and seemed to instinctually feel something was…. off. Cheshire yanked on the proverbial reins again, and Shalaz finally looked down at her, peering at her with one glowing yellow eye.

"My lady…" Shalaz half-gasped. "I… forgive me… I did not know it was you," its voice was much quieter now that it was not howling a battle-cry. It moved backwards half a step, and lowered the talon that threatened to end Cheshire's existence.

Cheshire slowly stood up, brushing herself off and rubbing the sore spot on her shoulder where she landed. "You nearly killed me," she affirmed.

"I… I… I apologize, my lady," Shalaz bowed his massive, truck-sized head. "Please do not be angry with me, I was… I am shocked to see you here," he finished.

Cheshire smiled, and walking forward, placed a hand gently on the beasts' muzzle. "It's alright, Shalaz. No harm, no foul. You were just doing your duty."

The beast looked at her, palpable relief visible on its monstrous face. It rubbed its muzzle up against her in a moment of affection that took her by surprise. She had changed its reality so that it believed her to be some… royalty, some lady of the castle. She wasn't expecting _affection. _Especially not a gesture that was so gentle.

Cheshire couldn't help but laugh, and patted the beast again. "I have missed you, my lady," the creature said quietly, as to not break her eardrums she assumed.

"And I you, friend," she replied, playing into the fiction she had created for the monster, still shocked at its gentle candor. It was very different from the violence it just showed. "I need your assistance," she stepped back, and looked towards the open gate, and the small shadowy figures that stood watching in the darkness. "My friends and I need speedy transport to the keep - to the King. They are envoys that I have been charged to protect."

Shalaz lifted his head and let out a puff of air from his nose, looking at the figures in the darkness. He squinted his yellow eyes, and Cheshire felt his will press against her own - as he tried to break free from her illusion. But her power held fast. "Of course, my lady, I would be honored."

"You can come out now," Cheshire yelled to her 'companions.'

Slowly, hesitantly, she saw the figures of Larissa, Sarah, Yoseph and Shane step forward. Shockingly, Larissa stepped out first - Shane quickly rushing to protectively step in front of her. "I wonder if she knows he loves her," Ches said to herself quietly.

"Hrm?" Shalaz grunted questioningly, turning his head to peer down at her with one large yellow eye.

"Oh, nothing, friend," she soothed. Apparently the beast had impeccable hearing.

"That is… incredible," Larissa said after a long pause, walking up to them, looking agog at the towering monster that sat idly behind Cheshire. "It is… utterly in your control, then?"

"Insomuch as it makes sense, I guess."

Larissa looked at her questioningly. Cheshire shook her head and continued. "It's a story. I can control its five senses and.. very limitedly, its short term memory… I've made it believe I'm someone I'm not, for example. But other than that, it's not mind control. I can't control his movements."

"That is why your gift is so pervasive - I have never seen it on this scale," Larissa said with a rare, if cold, smile. "You make your victims believe their actions are of their own free will. That is why it is so hard to break the control. Hah," Larissa seemed quite pleased with her realization. "Whereas mind control is so easy to break as it is so unnatural to the victim."

Cheshire winced as she said 'victim,' but… it was true. "Thanks," she said begrudgingly.

"Greetings… great… beast!" Yoseph yelled up at Shalaz, talking slowly like the monster was dim-witted or didn't speak english. "We are… a… convoy! Coming here to-"

"Yoseph," Cheshire stopped him. "You.. don't.. need to play along."

Yoseph stopped, and blinked. "I don't?"

"To him, we're having an entirely unrelated conversation," Cheshire said with a smirk. "I control what he hears, remember?"

"Ah, right, right," Yoseph said with a light laugh.

"This is ungodly," Shane mumbled.

"Any proof you needed that I have never meddled with your reality, _paladin,_" Cheshire growled at the armored man. "Stands here, thirty feet tall in front of you. If I wanted it, you'd be licking my boots," she ground out.

"And so I am reminded," Shane straightened his back with a guarded expression. "And it makes it no less unnatural." His hand, ever present on his sword hilt, gripped it tighter. She wasn't sure if it was because of the monster… or her. _Which monster, _she corrected herself.

Cheshire shut her eyes, and shook her head. It was hopeless. "Fine. Whatever. Let's just go." She turned her attention up at the giant beast who was now clearly very bored at the conversation he believed was happening beneath him. "Shalaz, dear old friend, we are ready to go, if you could be so kind…?"

"Of course, my lady. It is my honor!" Shalaz lowered himself to the ground, stretching his arm out to serve as a makeshift ladder onto his back. Cheshire led the way, carefully climbing up the beast until she stood on his massive, spiked back. She stepped forward, and sat down carefully between two spines, using them to brace herself against. The others followed carefully behind her.

"Now, be careful," she hollered up to the monster. "We are unaccustomed to flying in this way… you may shake us loose."

"If you fall, I will catch you," Shalaz laughed heartily. "Do not fear!"

"If you fall, what happens…?" Larissa asked from close behind her.

"The illusion breaks. I fall to my death, and you all become evening snacks," Cheshire replied grimly.

"... Oh."

"This will be great fun!" Sarah piped from where she sat near Shane, holding on to one of Shalaz's spines. "I have never flown on the back of anything, let alone a beast this large and magnificent!"

"Thank you, tiny one," Shalaz replied, turning his head to look back at the young girl. "I will try to ensure the ride is as great as your anticipation."

"He can hear us?" Yoseph asked in shock.

"Only the things I decide I don't need to censor," Cheshire said with a smile. "I saw no harm in letting that one through."

"Hold fast, small ones," Shalaz said loudly as he stood, and with a flap of gigantic wings, lifted himself off of the stone outcropping and took to the skies.

The flight was… an experience beyond compare. It was a smooth ride, and feeling the creature's muscles working in perfect sync to carry them seemingly effortlessly into the sky was something Cheshire hoped she would live long enough to remember. She took his advice and held tight on to the spine in front of her, and couldn't help but smile broadly as they soared over the castle. And it was then, looking down, that she understood the magnitude of the structure.

The stone building beneath them wove in and out of itself like a madman's dream. They would have wandered until they starved or died and made no progress. The structures made no sense - save for the keep that loomed over it all on a raised rocky ledge in the center of it. The keep to which they were headed.

Sarah was cheering in excitement behind her - and she turned her head to smile back at them - and couldn't help but laugh. Sarah was beaming with joy, Shane was… mystified, Larissa seemed thrilled and Yoseph… Yoseph was clinging to the spine of the monster with his eyes clenched shut.

Cheshire tried to shout back to Yoseph, but her words were quickly whipped away by the wind. She decided it better to enjoy the flight - as the wind curling through her hair and the beautiful stars overhead may be the last enjoyable moment she had. Shalaz was slowly circling the keep, and the large stone courtyard that sat at its center.

With a few powerful beats of his giant wings, Shalaz slowly lowered them down, and they disembarked from his back in the same fashion as they climbed. When they were all safely to the stone, Shalaz sat up, mimicking the pose of a giant cat, and folded his wings behind himself as to not smash them into a wall.

"I hope the ride was suitable," Shalaz said gently down to Cheshire. There was… fondness in his eyes, and it shocked her. Her illusion could not make the monster feel emotions that he was not already capable of. These are demons and beasts, not… creatures with compassion.

"It…" she stammered, then cleared her throat. "It was, thank you. It was… very enjoyable, a view most of us never see."

"Then I am happy I did not kill you," Shalaz said with a toothy, beastial grin.

The sound of metal sliding against metal suddenly caught her attention. Turning her head… panic gripped the back of her throat. Not because they were suddenly discovered… but because she should have seen it coming.

Shane stood near her, sword drawn, walking towards Shalaz with purpose in his face.

"What are you doing?!" Cheshire cried, and ran forward, blocking Shane's path.

"Step away, Cheshire. It is a demon, and its purpose has been served. I will not have it come back to kill us or betray us to its master once your illusion fails," Shane replied firmly.

"No. It hasn't attacked us," she insisted.

"The boy's right, Ches," Yoseph said, trying to coax her. "It hasn't attacked us only because you're keeping it from doing so. It'll turn on us the instant it gets far enough away. Shane can put it down quick."

"No," Ches insisted. "I won't let you - this isn't a fair fight, he doesn't deserve it!"

"It is a demon! It has killed innocents before - and you would have been a smear on the stonework if you didn't have your tricks," Shane replied loudly, becoming angry. "I will not let it kill more because you've grown _attached._"

"What happened to battle with honor?! You'll kill him when he can't defend himself?! Or is that only when it's big enough that you know you'll lose?!" she snapped back bitterly. "You argued the other way when we were fighting that vampire - or was it because you thought you stood a chance there?"

Shane's jaw twitched as he pointed the end of his sword towards her throat. Cheshire stood fast. She could control the mind of the paladin… but it meant that she would need to drop the illusion on Shalaz. Between a rock and a hard place.

"Stand aside or I will force you to stand aside," Shane said with an even-leveled anger in his voice.

"Boy, don't you-" Yoseph started but Shane raised his hand and cut the older man off.

"I am the higher ranking member of the Order, Yoseph. I defer to you because you are my elder and my friend. But in this, stay out. If she chooses to defend this beast instead of siding with the path of the light- then she deserves what she gets."

"But-" Yoseph began.

"He is right," Larissa placed her hand gently on Yoseph's arm, pulling him back. Sarah looked distraught, but was again half-hiding behind the older woman. "Let them settle this. They have been building to a conflict since we arrived."

"You've wanted to run me through since we came here," Cheshire threw her hands up in frustration. "And now you have just found a convenient excuse."

"Do you think I need any more excuses?" Shane turned his head back to her, and she was surprised and the coldness in his eyes. "You have murdered my kin - _my friends _-" he bit harshly, mimicking her own tone of voice in talking of the murders that drove her over the edge so many years ago. "You stray from the light, you committed yourself to a god of chaos, and the Elder Mystics saw in you some _redemption_, something worth _saving._ And now you will throw it away because you choose to protect this _monster?!"_

Cheshire wavered. One hand went to the necklace she wore - and she fidgeted it through her fingers slowly. It was a symbol of the Order - the cross set into a delicate and intricate interweaving pattern of vines. She squeezed it until the edges of the cross bit into her skin.

"Well?!" Shane shouted, snapping her roughly out of her thoughts.

"I don't know," she replied dumbly.

"Then stand aside and let me kill this monster," Shane insisted hotly. "I will make its death quick," he added.

"No," she replied, her eyes squeezed shut. "I can't let you."

"And why not?!"

She opened her multi-toned eyes and turned them towards Shane. "Because it does not deserve to die here - not a cowardly death at your hands."

Shane took a step forward, the point of the blade still directly towards Cheshire. She took a step back, nearly stumbling, as he pushed her closer towards Shalaz. "Step aside, Cheshire," he repeated. "Step aside and let this be quick, or I will force you out of the way."

"If you do, the illusion will fail just the same. Are you so sure you'd rather tangle with him, and not take your chances? I can send him away, and by the time he gets far enough that the illusion breaks, we will be far from here." She tried to bargain with him.

"This isn't about our _survival,_ Cheshire," Shane said through an incredulous laugh. "This is about _right _versus _wrong._ This monster is a demon - an abomination sent upon this earth to kill and to do _evil._ It deserves to die."

Cheshire stopped retreating, and it caused Shane to stop his advance, or jab her with the end of his sword. "And what about me, then? Am I not a demon? You've insisted it so many times," Cheshire began, the bitter hurt edging her voice.

"Cheshire," Shane tried to interrupt.

"No! Explain yourself, then. You say he is a demon, meant to die, then what about me?! Am I not also a demon in your eyes, meant to die?!"

Shane's jaw twitched again as he clenched it too hard. "Yes," he finally replied.

It felt like a slap to the face. Why did she care what he thought?! Why was she such a fool as she let that remark hurt her?! Why was it a surprise? The man hated her, she _knew _he hated her, and yet the venom burned just as deep.

"If God had any justice, I would have been allowed to kill you by now," Shane said quietly. "But he chose a different path for you… and he is giving you this chance out of the darkness. Step aside, Cheshire, and choose redemption. Let me kill this monster."

Cheshire put her hands over her face, and ran both hands back through her dark hair, pulling on it to try and somehow convince her mind to work faster - and to convince the tears in her eyes not to fall. Time hung and stood still as her mind whirled uselessly. She should stand aside. Shane was right. But it felt _wrong._

This thing had done them no harm. And the friendship that shone in its eyes when it looked at her - the monster was capable of more than just death and rage and hate… which is little more than she had never seen out of the Paladin. "This monster has shown me more friendship than you ever have," she replied with a strange tone to her voice.

"Is that what this is about?" Shane laughed incredulously again. "Your childish need for friendship and acceptance?"

"No," Cheshire indignantly replied.

"I believe it is! You are bitter towards me because I will not forgive you for the things you have done, and you think you have seen _kindness _in this monster? Its kindness is a lie - a lie you've painted onto it! It is only gentle towards you because you have _altered its reality._"

"I have lived my life without long enough, I am happy to be left alone in solitude. This isn't about needing friendship, it's about recognizing its offer." She would not allow herself tears. She would not let the paladin see her cry, and that is all that kept them from flowing down her cheeks. She chose to glare at the paladin instead. "I do not want your forgiveness, Shane… I neither think you're capable of giving it or do I think I deserve it. I have murdered your kin, yes. I have done wrong, yes. But I _admit_ it. I am _trying_ to prove myself and to earn my redemption - and my freedom."

"Then do so, and _stand aside!_" Shane nearly shouted at her. "I will bargain with you - I will forgive you those deaths - I will forgive you the blood you have on your hands - if you prove to me you are willing to join us in the light and _let me end this monster here and now._"

And with that thought the bell rang clear in her mind - the instant of horrible clarity. Cheshire gripped the necklace of the Order and gave it a stronger squeeze - and felt the horror settle in her stomach. Not for the choice the paladin had smartly laid in front of her… but because of where her mind had found its solution. Her way out.

"I don't deserve forgiveness," she told the world in general. And it had never been more true than it was about to be.

In one reality, she stepped aside. In the other, she stood her ground, and waited…

When her illusions fell - when people fell out of her control, there were two general reactions. If she had the luxury of 'easing' someone out of her illusion, they were seamless lies that book-ended reality and were undetectable to the owner. But if the illusion were broken abruptly, if the glass was shattered, the 'victim' became acutely aware of their previous misgivings… and all that had transpired.

She could only create one illusion at a time - that illusion could be shared by everyone, or part of a crowd, or a single individual… but only one lie at a time.

And that was her woeful choice. Cheshire's control of Shalaz was shattered - her building-sized victim - and she instantly gripped hold of the minds of her companions - Yoseph, Shane, Larissa and Sarah, all stood perfectly still and watched as a false Cheshire stepped aside to let Shane murder the false Shalaz.

She heard the beast snort and growl from behind her. She knew she was likely about to die as the thing wreaked vengeance on her.

"You tricked me," it growled.

"It's a gift," she replied quietly, tears now flowing down her cheeks uninhibited. The illusion playing out in front of her 'friends' continued, Shane frozen solid to the ground, unmoving - yet in his mind he felt himself step forward, felt himself raise his blade and prepare to slay the monster, the image flawlessly repeated to the others.

"And you spared me," Shalaz growled again. "You have deceived your fellows and spared my life from the paladin. I demand to know why!" He roared. The moon was blotted out as he loomed over her.

Cheshire turned to look up at the gigantic beast, and wiped at the tears. She would cry in front of the monster - but not her own 'fellows' as Shalaz had called them. "You didn't deserve to die that way. I wouldn't let you die in a lie."

"Do you not believe the words that he said?! I would have killed you without a thought, and with hardly more than a gesture," it hissed.

"Then why haven't you?" Cheshire asked him quietly.

The monster paused, dug its claws into the stonework with a horrid crunching noise and let out a low snarl. With a sudden and abrupt movement, it leapt up into the air, spread its leathery wings to their full expanse and…. flew away.

Cheshire stood in the courtyard, with her frozen, lie-locked fellow travelers next to her… and never felt more alone. She watched as the form of the giant monster retreated into the darkness of the stars.

Turning her full focus back to her… 'friends' - she eased them out of the lie she had placed them all within. Shane had run the false 'Shalaz' through the throat and into the brain, and the beast had burned up into ashes, disappearing into nothingness… except for trenches in the stone made by claws the size of furniture.

She wiped again furiously at her tears and managed to get them under control as she kept her back to them. "Your compassion for the monster was admirable," Shane began quietly. "And I am… sorry for the choice that you had to make. But you have chosen well. You may not deserve my forgiveness, Cheshire… But you have it nonetheless."

She would have collapsed to her knees and sobbed, so real was the pain that sentence caused her. She truly deserved to go to hell and burn for what she had just done. Spared one life to ruin another, deceived the people trying to help her to save the life of a soulless creature. _A creature that yet still spared you all,_ some part of her mind tried to console her. _He could have just crushed you all right there, but didn't… _

_Eye for an eye, _she reasoned. _He spared your life because you spared his. Now you're even. _She was half-listening to the group as they decided to push a little further into the castle - now the inner keep they strove to reach - before finding somewhere to hold up and rest. She trod after them heartlessly, falling into step next to Yoseph.

She felt the older man's hand fall heavily on her shoulder, and she looked up at his face, trying poorly to mask the sorrow.

"You're a soft heart," Yoseph said quietly to her. "You always have been. Sometimes for giant monsters, sometimes for silly old men who make speeches about hope and redemption," he said with a warm smile.

_I betrayed you all_, she told him silently in her head. "Thanks," she said aloud, the first word she had spoken since she had altered their combined reality. She was suddenly so very tired of it all, and was looking forward to what little sleep she could get.

_They won't ever know, _Cheshire tried to convince herself. _Until they do_…


	5. Chapter 5

**Aaaand here is where we get the M rating. If you're squeamish about violence or sex - I suggest moving on. **

* * *

It was hard to sleep.

For several reasons.

One, the obvious - her guilt. Cheshire sat awake, her back up against the luxurious marble stone wall, watching her 'companions' sleep - all except Shane, who sat watch silently at the other side of the circle. They didn't light a fire - one, it was warm enough in the keep to not need it, and two - they didn't dare. And that lead to the second notable reason it was hard to sleep.

The keep felt _wrong._ The walls themselves seemed to have a presence to them - a feeling that permeated every stone and every tapestry - and Cheshire couldn't quite place her finger on it. She wasn't sure if the knot of fear in her stomach was part of her guilt for what she had done to her 'friends' or if it was the essence of the keep itself. She wasn't sure that it mattered. Ches chewed idly on her lower lip as thoughts ran through her head.

_What have you done? _she kept asking herself.

_Maybe it'll be nothing - maybe they will never know your transgression,_ one hopeful voice would reply.

_No, you idiot - they'll find out. It's just a matter of time, _answered the more logical voice.

It felt stifling. The guilt, the keep, the dread. The whole of the building was… silent - and empty - and it didn't feel like it should be empty. These halls seem more kept, more lived in than the seemingly abandoned portions of the castle. The lack of any monsters, vampires, or anything else for that matter seemed jarring here.

And it didn't help that Shane was _staring_ at her.

She turned her mismatched eyes to him and met his stare - and counted the seconds before the paladin looked away. One. Two. Three. Four - and her one-amber one-white eyes were too much for him and he looked away. She sneered bitterly and turned her own head away. _He made it further that time,_ she remarked to herself.

Letting out a shuddering breath, she stood up.

"Where are you going?"

"I need to step outside. I won't be far. If I'm gone more than twenty minutes assume I'm dead," she said, half-joking as she walked away.

"Consider it done," the paladin replied.

She would almost think he was being playful with her if it weren't for everything else that had occurred and that dwelled on her mind.

She pushed open the large wooden doors and stepped out into the small outer hallway. The cooler night air hit her face and she felt the nausea that she hadn't recognised clear slightly.

Leaning up against the stone railing of the outdoor walkway, she put her hands over her face. She had just wandered off into the darkness of the _castle of the lord of darkness. _All to 'get some air.' It was suicidal, and yet, she needed it. She needed to be away from them. She needed-

**DUDE.**

Cheshire screamed and whirled, and would have fallen backwards over the edge of the walkway if a large disembodied black claw hadn't grabbed her by the arm and kept her from toppling over the railing.

**Nononono you can't fly silly.**

"Holy… shit…" she gasped, feeling her heart still pounding in her throat. She looked up at the one glowing eye and doofish and familiar glowing smile.

**We went through this. They call me Linger, remember? **

"You need to stop sneaking up on me, please," Cheshire managed to get out, and straightened up. Linger let go of her arm once her balance was restored and the large black clawed hand patted her on the head.

**But that's no fun at all! And speaking of fun - DUDE!** 'He' - Cheshire settled on, it felt male - exclaimed again, waving its hands around. **DUDE!**

"You keep saying that. What 'dude'?" Cheshire said, trying to not laugh as it waved its disembodied hands around like an idiot.

**Man oh man oh man, you're better than a stage opera. That shit was amazing! First the dragon was like RAWR and then you were all like NUH UH and then he was all like WHOA and then you were like I'M CHEATING, SHORTCUT!**

"Stop stop stop-" Cheshire interrupted. "Be quiet! Someone'll hear you!"

**You don't mean someONE. Oh, well, I guess you mean someONE, as in ONE some. One someone? Whatever. You don't want the tin can to hear because you were all woobly up in his gourd.** Linger wiggled his fingers at his own head, miming the action of tangling up spaghetti or something of the like.

"Please stop," Cheshire asked woefully.

**Aw… Aw cupcake, I'm sorry. You're all upset, aren'tcha. **

She just nodded. "And I don't know why I'm talking to you. You're part of the castle, you're probably going to kill me at some point."

**I stopped you from falling off the wall here, dinn't I?**

"I guess - but - you tried to scare me off it in the first place," she insisted.

**Liiiiiiies and slander. I was only talking. You're just jumpy. Listen, sweetheart, I'm probably the only friend you got in this place. Sooo cheer up. **

Lord, that was a sobering fact. "Why are you here?" she asked finally - really out of curiosity and not malice. "I don't get it."

**The castle is soooooooo boooooooring. And you're really nooooot boring. Soooooo I'm here watching Yooooooou because you're better than an opeeerrra! ** Linger drew out the sylables, and put a dramatic roll on the 'r' in 'opera.' Cheshire shook her head, but couldn't help but smile. **And you like me! I cheer you up. Even just a little.**

"No," she replied.

**Yus. **Linger moved its head closer to hers, and batted its one eye.

"No."

**Yuuuuuuuuuuuuss admit it. **Head closer, another bat of the eye.

"No, you do-"

**YUUUUUSS I DO ADMIT IT! **And yet again.

"Fine! Fine. Okay, you do, I admit it," she said with a laugh. "Now quit that." She shooed him backwards, and Linger complied, straightening up and swirling the end of his… cloak / tail, whatever it was. The shadowy thing that made up the end of his body. "I'm glad I amuse you," she added.

**So am I. I mean, glad you amuse me anyway. But I'm not the ooooonly one that's watching.**

Cheshire felt the dread grow in her stomach, and the moment of levity she had allowed herself came to an abrupt end. She looked around at the castle walls that surrounded her. "... I know," she didn't even try to deny it. They were being watched. _Stalked._

**You've got a lot of eyes on you. I mean, I only have one, so you have statistically like… a whole lot more sets of eyes, seeing as I don't have a complete set, so, if you have even like, seven eyes, that's like.. three more people, two and a half if one has three-**

"I get it. I get it. We're cause for alarm, so they're watching us-"

**Noooooo… Not 'us.' I didn't say they were watching **_**you plural. **_ … **There is no plural 'you' in the english language, is there? Pffft it's a stupid language. Yous guys? Y'all? Now I sound like an idiot. ** Linger put his finger to his chin thoughtfully and tapped his taloned finger on it. **I mean, I always sound like an idiot. But now more so-**

"Focus, please," Cheshire felt a new kind of fear surge through her. "What are you talking about?"

**You - as in speciiiifically you - are being watched. I'm not the only one who finds you iiinteresting. **

"Oh god…"

**Yup! You put on one HELL of a freakin' show, Cupcake. You went all gourd-wonky on some ancient hell beast. Made 'em a lap dog. Thaaaat you don't see every day. **

"Oh no…" Cheshire put her hands over her face.

**M'awwww, now you're all upset.**

"Of course I am! That's not good news!"

**It is kinda? You'll survive longer. You'd all be dead by now if you didn't do something interesting like mind-warp one of the oldest creatures IN this joint. **

Cheshire looked up at the shade - wraith - whatever it was. "What do I do…?"

Linger blinked. **Nobody's ever asked me that before. **They both paused and stared at eachother while Ches waited for the wraith to answer. Finally, he felt clearly felt obliged to say, well, anything. **So… I… guess…. I… don't… know.** He finally finished, taking a long pause between each word.

Cheshire's shoulders slumped and she walked past the shadow to lean up against the stone wall of the castle, away from the railing. "Is it hopeless?"

**Nothing's hopeless. Depends on what your hopes are. Far's'I'figur, you've got a couple of options.** Linger held up a hand and began counting them out on his pointed, black-as-darkness claws. **ONE. You kill the King and the castle collapses and we go away for like… a bunch of years that seems to have no real bearing on rules or legend because reasons…. TWO. You die horribly at the hands of some awful monster… THREE. You commit suicide. **

"There are a lot of other options in there," Cheshire eyed him narrowly.

**Likewhat? WhaddImiss?**

"They find out what I've done, and Shane murders me in my sleep."

**Ookay, yeah, that counts, FOur. What else?**

Cheshire thought for a moment, and then shook her head. "You win, I'm out."

**Wellll, now that I thinkonnit…. There is ONE other option… **Linger drew out slowly, and stuck his thumb out to count out 'five' on his hand.' **One that you're nooooot going to like…**

She looked up at the night sky, and at the distant and cold stars. "Which is…?"

**Surrender.**

Cheshire froze, and lowered her gaze to the shade in front of her. She felt a sudden wariness and fear. "Excuse me?"

Linger sighed dramatically and shook its cloaked head. Linger seemed.. unhappy about this, in some way. **You heard me. Surrender. He's asked for your surrender.**

"Who's… 'he'?" Cheshire asked, afraid she already knew the answer.

**You Know Who. **

Cheshire swallowed the lump in her throat - throwing herself off the walkway suddenly seemed like a good idea. "Just… just say it," she asked the shadow, barely above a whisper.

**Fiine. The Lord of Shadows. The King of Vampires. The King of the Castle. Dracula, silly. **

Cheshire pressed back against the stone, feeling its coolness against her hands, but… it was little comfort. She knew she stood no chance against Linger - she couldn't control something that was _pure _insanity. If he wanted, he could kill her - drag her off into the darkness - or worse. Her foolishness was shocking even to herself.

**Well? **Linger asked.

"I thought you two… weren't buds."

**We aren't. It was an announcement. Kinda went through everybody's heads all at once. He can do that. It's annoying**. Linger scratched his head. **So. Do you surrender?**

Cheshire stammered. "I can't… speak for them, I-"

**NOOOooo you nitty! **Linger snapped his fingers in front of her face. **Paaaay aatteention! I said YOOOOU you SINGULAR not you PLURAL not THEM. He doesn't want THEM to surrender, he doesn't care if THEY're dog food! He wants YOU to surrender. YOU specifically. YOU as in he said, all up in our brains 'n shit - **Linger took a deep breath, and mimicked some voice and tone that Cheshire didn't recognise. She could only guess who he was mocking. '**I will have the illusionist surrender - make the mortal girl of two-toned eyes submit.' **Linger let out a puff and his voice went back to its usual deep raspiness. **Freaking over dramatic if you ask me. I guess you kinda get to be when you're the **_**king of effin' vampires. **_

Cheshire put her head in her hands.

**Do you surrender?**

"No," she said quietly.

**Good!** Linger exclaimed happily, and clapped his claws together.

Cheshire looked up, shocked. "What?"

**Surrender is BOoOOOOORRING. This'll be more fun! **

"I'm glad it's amusing to you," she said dryly.

**I know, right?! OH. You were being sarcastic.**

"Not really, I'm glad one person is enjoying this, if it's not going to be me," she said with another sigh.

**See? That's why WE'RE buds. And- Whoooop! Company!**

Linger vanished through the floor as abruptly as he had arrived - slipping through it like it wasn't there. Cheshire jumped despite herself, and heard the clomping of boots heading in her direction. She looked over to see Shane walk around the corner.

"It's been twenty minutes, as far as I can figure, and I figured I should come collect your corpse," Shane said mildly as he walked towards her. "And yet you're still alive."

"I'm sure you're disappointed," Cheshire happily pushed aside the news she was just given to take up the familiar mantle of sarcasm. She had never been happy to see the paladin - but she was almost just. "And what would you do with my corpse anyway?"

Shane lifted his shoulders again in a shrug and looked over at her with an unreadable expression. "Didn't think that far."

Cheshire couldn't help but take the opportunity to needle the paladin - especially when fear was burning so close to the surface . "Well, I mean, I know you paladins don't get out much - but - I didn't think you'd resort to _corpses_," she said with a mischievous grin.

"Huh?" Shane's face was blank, and he then screwed up his nose in disgust and realization at her joke. "That is blasphemy, I will have you know."

"Won't be the first time, won't be the last," Cheshire sighed as she stood away from the wall and began to head back towards the door to where the rest of the group was asleep. "Come on, we should-"

Cheshire stopped abruptly as Shane took hold of her upper arm with his gauntleted hand, stopping her from crossing past him. "I meant what I said, I forgive you," Shane said quietly, an intensity to his voice she hadn't heard before.

"I… don't deserve your forgiveness, really, Shane," Cheshire said quietly, her throat tight. "More than you know… I-"

Cheshire let out a small cry as Shane pushed her up against the stone wall, the abrupt feeling of the cool stone against her skin was overtaken immediately as Shane's lips crushed against her own. Confusion and shock reigned as she felt his cold armor press against her - none-too-gently holding her against the stone as he pinned both her shoulders in place.

Cheshire let out a shocked cry against his lips as he pressed against her, deepening his attentions as he turned his head to the side. He broke the kiss for a moment, one gauntleted hand slipping around the back of her head and tangling up in her hair. She felt his hot breath against her skin as she tried to muster the ability to speak. He tilted her head back, pulling against her hair as his lips descended on hers again. His teeth grazed her lower lip as he pushed his tongue into her mouth. His hand held her head still as he pressed against her with a relentless passion.

The shock finally broke, and Cheshire pushed both hands against the paladin, trying to push him off. He lifted his head, relenting from the kiss as she resisted.

"Shane, what-"

"I swore you were put here just to tempt me…" Shane said breathily down at her.

"Shane, you-" Cheshire began again, and turned her head to the side as he lowered his to kiss her again. He placed his lips against her neck, and she felt him begin to slide his other hand down her arm. "Stop, Shane, let me go.."

Shane paused, his lips lifting from her neck, as he pulled up to look at her. Lust was clouding his eyes as he looked into her own eyes hotly. He stepped back from her, and Cheshire felt the weight of the armor lift from her. She breathed suddenly, not knowing she had been holding her breath in.

"It is this place… It is… wrong," Shane stammered out and turned sharply from her. He walked back through the door stiffly. Cheshire stood there, trembling, not sure what had just happened to her - what felt more out of place, the wraith, the news of her being of 'interest' - or… or what the hell had just happened to her?!

After a moment, catching her breath and trying uselessly to control the whirling thoughts in her mind, she realized she needed to follow him. Stepping back through the door, she watched as Shane nudged Yoseph with his foot. "Your turn old man," he grumbled before settling up against a wall.

Cheshire sat down on her own bed roll, and the room descended into silence for a good half an hour, as Cheshire's mind tumbled uselessly over everything that had just happened to her.

"What'd I miss?" Yoseph asked her, seeing plainly the look of shock on her face. Cheshire didn't look at the older man - knowing she couldn't control her expression and that it would give too much away.

"I don't know," she replied, her voice sounding as useless as she felt. It was true, she really didn't know.

The old man sat in silence, waiting for her to finish - but she offered nothing more. He sighed - knowing clearly that something was 'up.' "Well fill me in if you figure it out," Yoseph responded. "Get some rest, girl, you look like you're about to have a fit."

Cheshire let out a wavering breath and laid down, staring at the ceiling for a long while before sleep finally took her.

* * *

"I swore you were put here just to tempt me…" Shane said breathily down at her.

"Shane, you-" Cheshire began again, and turned her head to the side as he lowered his to kiss her again. _This has happened before,_ the thought occurred to her. _Am I- _her thoughts were cut short as the gauntleted hand that had tangled itself into her hair yanked her head back to face up towards him. _This didn't happen!_

"Sshh…" Shane hushed her quietly, and she felt the metal of his armor press harder against her. He had pinned her to the wall with the length of his armored thigh, and his other hand came up to gently run his gloved thumb across her bottom lip.

"Shane, you-" Cheshire began again, and felt as though she was repeating herself. But something was wrong.

Shane cut off her plea as he silenced her again with his mouth - kissing her roughly this time, his teeth grazing along her lower lip as he pushed his tongue into her mouth again. She felt his hand in her hair grip tighter as the other one now lazily wandered down from her chin, down the side of her neck, and down to her shoulder. The feeling of the leather and metal against her skin scraped her lightly as he pressed his hand lower.

Cheshire yelped against his lips as his heavy hand gripped her breast and squeezed - none-too-gently at all, kneading the flesh in his hands. Even through her sheer top, tanktop and bra, it almost hurt.

Shane laughed against her lips, and broke his kiss to pull back far enough to look down at her, his eyes smoldering with lust. His one hand kept slowly squeezing her breast, and she winced, her eyes wide as she stared up at him helplessly. She struggled once - but it was useless. "You are a little demon, aren't you… my little fiery lying demon, sent to tempt me. Well…" Shane lifted the hand that had been tormenting her breast, and undid the leather buckle with his teeth, dropping the heavy gauntlet to the ground. His now bare hand ran along the edge of her sheer shirt. "I have always wondered what it was to give in to temptation…"

"Shane, please, stop-" Cheshire began, nervously. He cut her off by yanking roughly against her hair - and she yelped in surprise as he pulled her head further back, pressing her hips against his as he arched her back.

"You are so very much more reachable than Larissa, I must say… And while you aren't as beautiful, you have a sultriness to you I find… exquisite, I will admit."

_This doesn't sound like Shane… This isn't… This isn't what happened. _

"No, it isn't what happened," the paladin chuckled again as he answered her unspoken thoughts, and ran his bare hand down again, slipping over the swell of her breasts, and down her stomach. "You must stop telegraphing your thoughts so - the Order was right." She flinched at his touch as he lifted the hem of her shirt, and slipped his bare hand against the skin of her stomach. She flinched again, and tried to wrench away from him.

"This is a dream," Cheshire said, feeling no less helpless.

"You are correct… Lucid dreams can be… so very interesting," Shane smiled darkly down at her, and slipped his hand further up her stomach under her shirt, and soon found the line of her bra.

"Stop, whatever you are…" She begged, and struggled - she tried to reach into his mind - but… she was dreaming. She was powerless here, lucid or not.

"I'm Shane, the paladin, don't you recognize me?" Shane laughed quietly. "Or is my 'holy' act just not convincing…?" His fingers traced her skin under her shirt, daring to go further, but not. The gauntleted hand in her hair held her head fast, and he leaned over her to trace the line of her jaw with his tongue. "You taste… like cinnamon," he said hotly against her skin.

"Please…" Cheshire asked quietly, her voice sounding small.

"Please, what?" 'Shane' asked, lifting his head to hover his lips over her own, feeling his hot breath against her skin. "Please stop? Please continue? Please make me feel the fires of heaven, and burn my sin away…?" Shane chuckled quietly, "Oh, I almost convinced myself with that last one."

Cheshire struggled, tried to push against him, but he wouldn't budge - even in a dream, she wasn't a match for Shane's strength. The armor felt cold against her skin. "I don't want this," she said quietly.

"I know," Shane replied, and his lips closed the gap between them again, this time slower, exploring, his tongue taking its time to press against her own, no less persistent, no less demanding of its entry into her mouth but less violent in its action.

All she could do was make a quiet 'mmff!' noise against him. She let out another startled cry as he grabbed her by the hips with both hands and hefted her up the wall, wrapping her legs around his waist and pinning her up off the ground. She felt the metal of his armor dig into her thighs as he held her in place. She tried to push him away, but it was useless as he slid his hands up her legs slowly from her knees to her upper thighs. She was trapped between them.

Finally she shook her head loose of his kiss and turned her head away. "Let go of me!"

"I have never had a woman refuse my advances before," Shane said with a small smile, and she felt him nuzzle in to her neck. "Don't worry… I won't rape you, I won't hurt you… it's not my style," Shane chuckled against her skin. She felt his tongue slide up her neck slowly, as he licked and kissed his way along her flesh. "There are many things in this castle that I can't speak the same for… Left alone with them for an hour, and you'd be a broken woman."

"Who are you?!" she demanded, half-frantic.

"Do you not know? Can you not guess at least _what_ I am, if not my name..? I thought perhaps you were like the others, that I could… _earn_ your surrender… and deliver you to the King already tamed…" Shane said as he finally reached her ear, and Cheshire let out a small whimper as he gently bit down on her earlobe.

"Incubus," Cheshire said quietly, almost a whisper.

"Correct," Shane replied, and she felt him smile against her skin. "And it seems that your… gifts of telepathy, or however it is you control reality… keeps you immune to my charms, even in dreams… for shame, we would have had so much fun…"

To accentuate his point, he pressed his hips against her own, and she felt the metal of Shane's armor dig into her core. A small noise escaped the back of her throat, half a cry half a moan. The incubus - still in Shane's form - chuckled in his throat. "Perhaps we still might, you _are_ a mortal woman, after all… and hypnotism or not," he pressed his groin against hers again, one hand hooked behind her back keeping her pressed against him, the other tilted her head back to his and his mouth invaded her own. He pulled his hips back just barely only to press against her again, slowly rubbing the metal of the armor against her before retreating and repeating the motion. Cheshire could barely think - the confusion of the dream, his attentions, it was all too much. He ended the kiss by just barely biting on her lower lip, and kept his face close to hers as he finished his sentence. "I am the best you will _ever _have…"

"Put her down, LeRange," a voice interrupted.

Shane's head swiveled away from hers, and his motions abruptly stopped. "I am eliciting a surrender."

"You are molesting her, it's not the same," the male voice returned.

"I beg to differ," Shane replied, and yet released Cheshire's head and slowly lowered her back to the ground. When the paladin stepped away - he was no longer the paladin. His skin was a faint purple tone, and the armor had been traded for a simple pair of black leather pants. He was shirtless - and the demon was… the demon was clearly an incubus by the look of him. He was beyond gorgeous, even with his large black leathery wings and pale purple skin. Cheshire found herself leaning against the wall for support, her head spinning.

The incubus - LeRange, looked at her with a thin, beautiful and chiseled smile partially obscured by his long black hair. "I've never had a girl who hasn't instantly fallen at my feet," he said with idle amusement, and reached out to toy with a piece of Cheshire's hair - she snapped her head away from him, out of his reach. He only chuckled. "You're denying me my novelty."

"I'll deny you more if you don't leave her be," the other voice replied.

LeRange stepped away and placed his hands up in a sign of surrender. "Very well, you have no power anywhere but here, I might as well listen to you."

As the incubus stepped aside - she saw the other figure that he was talking to. She blinked in confusion - the man who stood on the other side of the room was unfamiliar to her. He was tall, long blond hair pulled back in a ponytail, and a fine, if dated, carefully tailored suit hung neatly on his thin frame. It almost looked from the 1920's, Ches guessed. He wore black gloves, and arms neatly crossed in front of his chest. But his face - he wore a full white mask - obscuring his features, and only leaving one circular hole for a single eye, and a thin line for the mouth. Nothing but darkness was visible through the holes.

"It would have been fun," LeRange said with a sad sigh, mourning the loss of his conquest. Cheshire shot him a glare, and finally found her tongue.

"If you ever come near me again - if you _ever _touch me again - I swear to God, I'll make you believe you're being devoured alive by maggots," she snarled angrily. "When you're mind has finally convinced your body to die, it will be a release from what I could do to you."

LeRange laughed, and grinned brightly. "Oh, you _are_ a feisty one! We would have _so_ much fun together. When the Master has your surrender, maybe I will beg him for a night with you, you might be worth it."

Cheshire wrinkled her nose in disgust and stepped away from him. "I won't surrender. Go away."

"Yes yes, consider me gone," LeRange took a low bow at the waist, and folded his large black leathery wings around himself - and in a moment that Cheshire couldn't quite grasp, whether that he folded in on himself or simply disappeared… he was gone.

Ches let out a sigh of relief, and self-consciously tried to straighten her shirt - she was covered, but disheveled. "Thank you, I…"

"You should never thank me," the masked figure replied, and uncrossed his arms from his chest and clasped his hands behind his back. "Never, no matter what you perceive I have done, are 'thanks' ever warranted."

"I'm sorry, I don't - I don't know you," Cheshire looked at him quizzically. He didn't sound morose just… empty. But there was a sorrow in that emptiness.

"You do," he replied. And…. nothing else. He wanted her to figure it out. Cheshire watched him carefully - but he stood like a statue, simply watching her. The white mask on his face with the empty hole over the left eye and - oh. One eye.

"Linger…?" she asked hesitantly.

"You are clever - your mind is quick, and intelligent. I wish we could have met under better terms," he responded, and inclined his head slightly in a short nod at her successful guess.

"How…" Cheshire began, but didn't know how to end the sentence she began.

"Your dream is not your own. In the castle, it is rare that dreams are not preyed upon by the denizens of its darkness."

"But you're not - really… You don't look or sound like…" she began, and didn't quite know how to finish again. Linger - or - whoever he was, seemed content to let her stand there and finish, though, as he did not offer her an explanation last time. "You're less crazy," was the best she could come up with, and smiled apologetically.

"What you know of me in the waking world is all that remains," the man replied, and she felt the hollow sadness in his voice. "In short, I was a warlock, a man consumed with my own power - and when I fell, the castle… devoured what it could, and what remained is the insanity that now follows you about," he finished.

"I'm so sorry," Cheshire said quietly, and shocked that she did mean it.

"Penance for my crimes," the gentleman responded. "I would tell you my real name, my dear, if I could… remember it."

Cheshire took a step away from the wall, towards him - her heart breaking for the man. What a horrible way to exist. "Regardless, I am sorry for your pain, and.. I am thankful for you saving me from the incubus," she half-grimaced at the thought of what would have happened if 'Linger' hadn't intervened. "It seems you're right, you're the closest thing I have to a friend in this place," she sarcastically laughed.

"I would not be so quick to assume so," Linger responded, and remained as still as a statue.

"That I may have other friends, or that you aren't to be trusted?"

"Both, perhaps."

Cheshire put her hand to her head, and felt the weight of her predicament return to her in full, even in a dream. "It's hopeless, isn't it."

"As I said before, no. Nothing is hopeless. But your chances are slim," Linger replied. This man seemed more a ghost than his psychotic counterpart - if possible. Cheshire felt that if she turned her head away, he might vanish. "The most likely scenario is that you surrender, or that you die instead."

"What happens if I surrender?" Cheshire asked. "Not that I intend to."

"But it is good to know the path of all your options, yes, I understand," he responded, and tilted his head back just slightly. "I do not know. That is up to the master of the castle - to Dracula. And I, despite my many years as part of the stone and mortar of this building, cannot predict his whimsy."

She nodded in understanding. "It was a stupid question," she said quietly. "But it appears I'm running out of time, if even my dreams are forfeit now."

"So it would seem. You are pursued, and surrounded. I suspect the only reason your companions are alive is that Dracula has allowed it, for whatever reason." Linger paused, and turned his head back towards her. "Cheshire, for everything that I may or may not do, I came here to tell you one thing."

"Hm?"

"If I were whole - we would be friends, I think."

Cheshire couldn't help but smile - a smile tinged in sadness. Good. Her only friend was a shattered, dead and insane warlock. But he was genuine, and it was something. "I think so too," she finished sadly.

"I am sorry your sleep has not been restful, it seems to have been your last opportunity for rest in some time…"

"What do you mean?"

"I believe Larissa may be dead."


	6. Chapter 6

**Here's a longer one for you all. Picking up steam now. Hope you enjoy, drop me a note if you do! **

* * *

"_I believe Larissa may be dead."_

The sentence rang in her mind as Cheshire shot up from where she lay - now very much awake. She swiveled her head over to find… Larissa asleep, on her bed roll, where she had been.

"Nightmare?" Yoseph asked her from the wall where he sat.

"Yeah," was all Cheshire could respond, still shaken from the dream.

"Don't blame you. You had a rough day."

_Rougher than you know,_ Cheshire amended silently. She let out a wavering breath and leaned her back up against the wall and tried to calm her nerves. Linger - or whoever Linger once was - had been wrong. Larissa was breathing calmly. "Yeah," Ches responded again plainly.

"Something's up with you, I can see it. But I know you're probably not going to tell me. Ever since we got to the keep here, you've had a wild-eyed look of panic."

"I'm that transparent," she observed dryly.

"To me anyway. And I know it's not because we're close to Dracula. What's going on?"

"It's just getting to me, is all, this place, the… it's overwhelming, the feel of it," she lied. Well, it wasn't a whole lie - that part was true. But it wasn't the whole truth. She wondered what she could feed the man to make him believe that she had spilled it all. She let out a small breath. "It's getting to everybody."

"Oh?" Yoseph asked quietly.

"Shane… Shane was acting funny, is all, I think the castle just pressures people into doing the wrong thing," she chewed on her lip, and couldn't bring herself to look at the paladin. What Shane had done in reality was _nowhere near_ what the incubus had mirrored in her dream - she had to remind herself that Shane had done none of the things that the incubus had attempted.

Yospeh snorted, apparently piecing together the events in his head. "I think this is the longest the man's ever been around women. He's an oaf, and he's harmless."

"I know," Cheshire sighed. "He still hates me."

"Hate and lust are two very, very separate things. Hell, I think oftentimes they go better hand-in-hand than love and lust," Yoseph snickered. "If my ex-wife was any proof."

Cheshire looked back at Yoseph, shocked, and then laughed - quietly, to not wake anyone. "I didn't know you were married," she said with a smile.

"A past life," Yoseph said with a far-away look and a fondness. "I miss her, though."

"I can tell."

"So, Shaney boy made a move on you, huh? Tell me he didn't just go for the gold…" Yoseph said with a grin.

Cheshire rolled her eyes, and shook her head. "Does he know any other way?"

Yoseph had to suppress a guffaw. "Of course he attacks a girl the same way he attacks a monster. Poor you, but, you look no worse for wear."

She shook her head no, and smiled faintly. "It's forgiven already - this place makes a person to strange things, and he did no damage."

"Glad to hear it. Now, go back to sleep if you can."

She lay down on her cot, and shut her eyes. This time, no sleep came, and Ches was the happier for it.

The keep was a beautiful building, in its strange and grotesque way. If you had taken the Palace of Versaille and created its strange and nightmarish twin, that is what the inner sanctum appeared to be. Soaring gothic architecture, twisted statues and a great deal of red, gold, and darkness.

Their footfalls echoed loudly in the hall that they walked through - it appeared to be a ballroom of some kind, devoid of furniture. MIrrors lined the walls on all sides - creating an infinitely repeated image of the five of them as they walked across the darkly stained herringbone floor. Chandeliers, twisted wrought iron fixtures hung from the ceiling, the candles in them barely flickering in the stillness of the air. The warm color from overhead further obscured the darkness in the corners of the room. Yoseph swiveled his head more than once as they walked through, mistaking the motion in the mirror for a more serious threat.

"Doesn't it strike anyone else as odd," Ches began, her voice echoing in the hall, so she did her best to keep her voice low. "That we have not seen a single creature… or a single soul since we arrived here…?"

"For once, we agree," Shane replied gruffly. He had his sword drawn regardless of the emptiness of the room. Shane had been ignoring Cheshire largely all day - which was fine by her, and no different than usual. After the 'awkwardness' that happened yesterday, she was happy for the silence.

"I think it's pretty, I mean… it's ugly, but it's pretty at the same time," Sarah said happily from beside Cheshire.

"That makes no sense," Larissa interjected. Who, despite Linger's statement of having been dead, seemed just fine and the most unaffected by the presence of the keep. Sarah looked crestfallen at the hard statement from the sorceress, and pouted.

"Makes sense to me," Ches said with a smile to Sarah. "And I was thinking the same thing. Grotesque, but the detail is stunning."

They fell into silence as they stepped across the ballroom floor, most of their footfalls silent save for the paladin's armor heavily clomping along. "Christ, boy," Yoseph said with a snicker. "You sound like a horse."

"I do not," Shane muttered in his helm. "I sound like a soldier."

"I dunno - if it looks like a duck and it sounds like a duck…" Cheshire began with a playful grin. Yoseph snorted in laughter.

"I do _not_ look like a horse," Shane flatly insisted. Cheshire suspected he might have been smirking behind the full metal helm.

They fell into silence again, but it was broken before long. "_I know something you don't know," _rang Sarah's voice.

Cheshire turned to the young healer next to her. "Excuse me?"

"I didn't say anything," Sarah said, nervously.

"But you did hear that," Ches asked, now wondering if she was going crazy.

"Aye, girl, we heard that," Yoseph said, drawing his gun from his holster.

"_I know something you don't know!" _The voice said again, sing-song, and definitely in Sarah's voice.

"I don't like that…" Sarah whimpered.

Sarah's disembodied voice laughed sharply. "Ohh, what's the matter? Are you afraid of the dark? Or are you afraid we'll tell your _dirty little secret!_"

"Whuh? Why's it picking on me?!" Sarah cried, and took hold of Larissa's arm. The sorceress hugged the healer close and placed a consoling hand on the healers head, gently stroking her hair. "I don't have any secrets!"

"_Everyone_ has secrets," the voice of Sarah echoed through the hall. "Everyone is full of secrets… some interesting, some not… And oooh, you all have such dark pasts. And dark presents in the case of some!" It laughed again. "I know all your dark places… I can hear them."

"'I?'" Ches asked the darkness, and looked around the room slowly at the mirrors. Something caught her eye - in one of the mirrors, the reflection of Sarah was not standing behind Larissa - but in front of her, watching them. "There…" she pointed.

"Good eye, illusionist," the reflection of Sarah spoke, and grinned a feral smile that was an unnatural expression on the chipper healer. "But you would know a lie when you saw one, wouldn't you," it grinned.

Ches clenched her jaw, but didn't respond.

"Maybe we'll tell all your secrets," the reflection of Sarah said with another grin. She placed her hand out - and appeared to press it against the glass on the _inside_ of the mirror - as if it were a pane of glass and she was another Sarah on the other side.

As she did, the reflection of Shane stepped towards the mirror in the reflection in their left. "Want to know mine?" The reflection, now speaking in Shane's voice, pulled the helm from his head. "Want to know what I've done that I pocket away in the corner of my mind and never speak of again?"

"It's a surface reading trick," Cheshire said with a sigh. "If you think about what you don't want them - it - whatever - to say… they'll find it. It's a simple mind-reading trick. It's an amature stunt," Ches mocked the glass. "They're prompting you all, so don't give it to them."

"How?" Sarah said with a whimper again, her head half-buried in the shoulder of the sorceress. "How do I not think about it?"

"Think about something else - like… I don't know, puppies or something," she added with a shrug.

"Correct! A simple trick, but an effective one. But we don't _need_ to know _your_ thoughts to see what you're hiding," the reflection of Sarah said to Cheshire. "You did it right out in the open for all to see!"

Cheshire reached out her mind to the creature, and she… felt something, but it was too far away to grab hold of. "Strong words, coward. You're projecting - you're not here - you won't even face us!"

"You think I'd be so foolish?" the not-Sarah pouted. "I may be a tiny little thing," the reflection in the mirror grabbed her own breasts with both hands, mocking the healer. "But I'm not an idiot!"

"Stop your tricks," Larissa warned. "Or we'll shatter the mirrors, ending your little show. Come out and face us."

"Hmm, I think not," the not-Sarah responded, putting her hands on her hips. "Four of you I could defeat without trouble. But _her_ -" the reflection pointed at Cheshire. "She would be trouble."

"She," the reflection of Shane spoke up. "Is more trouble to you all than she's worth."

The real Shane muttered something in his helmet, and Yoseph punched his armored shoulder. Cheshire was glad she couldn't hear what he had said, but could guess the gist of it.

"You want me to tell you all her little lies?" The voice of Yoseph spoke from behind them. Turning halfway, they could see the reflection of the older man step forwards towards the mirror to mimic the pose of the false Sarah and Shane. "I know some good ones. Or I could tell you about my ex-wife, the family I abandoned for a family of strangers and zealots," he added with a shrug. "Both are fascinating stories."

"You'll shut your yap," Yoseph raised his gun and pointed at his own reflection. He fired off a round, and the mirror shattered from the hole the bullet made. The glass fell to the ground in a shower of twinkling shards of glass and silver.

"Always solving your problems with violence," a false Larissa spoke from another mirror. "Is that why you abandoned your family? Violence? Did you beat them?"

"Be quiet!" Yoseph growled and fired off another round - shattering the mirror where the false Larissa had spoken.

The broken mirror didn't dissuade the fake Larissa from talking - she spoke up now from another mirror to the right of the broken one. "You are bad at masking your thoughts… You _did_ beat your wife… Huh… It is always the religious zealots that have _so much to hide…_"

"Like you, Sarah-" the voice of the false Sarah interjected. "You let that Priest touch you. You knew it was wrong, oh, _but you liked it…_"

"No!" Sarah shrieked. "No stop it! That's a lie!"

"We specialize in _lies_-" the false Sarah was now staring at Cheshire. Cheshire - whose reflection was the only one who hadn't spoken yet. That made her more nervous than not, for some reason. "Don't we?"

"What do you mean…?" Ches asked quietly.

"We are cut from the same cloth!" the reflection responded. "You belong here, with us- the things I could _teach_ you-" the reflection breathed in a heady breath and let it out, the innuendo obvious. Cheshire suppressed a shudder. "The things we could learn _from each other. _You are yet untapped, unhoned… The Order cannot teach you what you _need to know_."

"I won't surrender," Cheshire hissed at the reflection, stepping towards it reflexively. "You can spin your side all you want, I won't bend."

"Mmm, so the shadow _did_ fill you in on our Master's proposition… Now answer me this… did you tell them?" the figure gestured towards the others. Cheshire swore as the reflection caught her in a misstep, which drew a laugh from the mirrored image. "And that I believe is a modern way of saying… 'no.""

"What's that thing talking about?" Shane asked her.

"I-" Cheshire began, and took in a breath. "It's hard… to explain."

"Try," Yoseph said firmly.

Cheshire turned her head to glare at the reflection, who only laughed and gestured for her to continue. "We're all ears."

Cheshire winced and sighed. "It's only shown up twice. Once when we first arrived, and again last night. It's this… big… shadow… and it's insane. Talks like a Saturday morning cartoon show."

"And you're only mentioning this now?!" Yoseph snapped at her.

"It didn't seem important!" Cheshire responded defensively. "The thing seemed harmless and-"

"Nothing is harmless here, don't you get that?!" Yoseph pointed at the mirrors. "Not even the glass in this place is safe!"

"He has a point," the reflection of Shane added with a dismissive shrug.

"You shut up!" Cheshire snapped at the reflection of Shane, who only snickered at her outburst.

"What did it tell you?!" Yoseph demanded of Cheshire.

"Nothing really - just that - that Dracula wants me to surrender," she said quietly, recoiling from Yoseph's anger.

"We won't submit," Shane stated emphatically.

"It - he's - not asking you to surrender… just… just me," Cheshire amended shyly.

"What?" Yoseph responded. "That's ludicrous. Why?"

"She has the only _real_ power here," the false Sarah responded. "You're all weak… mortal, run-of-the-mill, even the sorceress is _hilariously_ outmatched. But _her_… She is a gem in the rough, and with the right… _coaching_…" The sexual overtones in it that just… sounded wrong coming out of the mouth of the 19 year old healer.

"Stay out of this," Cheshire demanded again of the glass.

"Oh, I _could_ stay out of this," the not-Larissa responded, the possessed reflection still gently soothing the real reflection of Sarah in the glass, making it that much more bizarre to watch. "You would all unravel yourselves in time… starvation, exhaustion, or one of the lower beasts you've fought would end you given enough exposure, that is if you didn't resort to murdering each other. But, the Master has grown bored with the rest of you," the false Larissa rested her head against the top of the reflection of Sarah. "So I come carrying a proposition."

"What proposition?" Shane asked.

"Surrender the illusionist to us - and you all go free."

Cheshire felt her stomach drop like a brick. She must have gone pale, feeling the blood rush from her face. The false Larissa made eye contact with her, and slowly grinned at her reaction.

"We will _not_ surrender-" Shane snarled. "We will _not_ retreat! We still stand strong!"

"Do you? Are you so sure?" The not-Larissa asked, and Cheshire felt something…. was off, suddenly.

"Explain yourself, abomination," Yoseph demanded.

"You humans throw that word around so much it is beginning to lose it's meaning," not-Larissa responded with a sigh. "Everything you dislike is a monster or an abomination. But, shall we do a head-count, then?"

Ches took a look around the room - trying to sense what felt so wrong all of a sudden. She reached out with her mind, and felt… just the faint sensation of the mind controlling the illusions in the glass. But there was something else, something just out of reach…

"We have the paladin - who, all things considered, really not that impressive," not-Larissa said with a small purr to her voice. "We've had better."

Cheshire tried to trace the mind behind the illusions - it felt old. Powerful. But something else was there.

"Then there is the old man - past his prime, slow, using… guns with enchanted bullets. Not even that creative."

She was close, she shut her eyes and focused - trying to find it, but it was… hiding from her. It knew it was looking, and it was dodging.

"The illusionist, which we've made clear already that we _covet_. And then there is the healer girl… who, besides being a plaything for an elder vampire, servers no offensive purpose and therefore does not factor in to the equation. As you can see, you do not stand as strong as you may think."

"You forgot Larissa," Shane said firmly.

Cheshire's eyes flew wide in a panic as she whirled so fast she almost tripped over her own feet. "Oh God, no-"

"Did I?" The false Larissa asked. "Well…" The reflection trailed off.

"How foolish of me," The _real_ Larissa finished.

Cheshire was too late. She dove for Sarah - but Larissa had already wrapped her hand around the healer's throat. Sarah screamed. Cheshire tried to take hold of the girl but Larissa stepped backwards - and in a motion too fast to be seen, was now twenty feet away from them. "I always save the _best for last_," Larissa said with a laugh.

"Demon!" Yoseph had both his guns trained on Larissa, who was now half-strangling Sarah and had her pinned. Sarah was struggling, but it looked useless. Larissa wasn't even budging, suddenly too strong for the girl's thrashing to even register.

"Let her go!" Shane shouted.

"No," Larissa responded, and took a step backwards, dragging Sarah - _through_ the glass of the mirror and to the other side. Yoseph fired off his bullets - but the glass of the mirror merely shattered harmlessly like the others.

"Damn it!" Yoseph shouted.

"Tsk tsk," came an unfamiliar voice from behind them. The three remaining whirled to face the unbroken wall of mirrors. There, standing within the reflection stood a man - clearly a vampire by the pale complexion and seemingly glinting orange eyes. He was well dressed, and he stood with one arm folded neatly behind him. He took a slow bow, his red hair falling along side his face. His voice was elegant but sharp, laid thick with a cruel sarcasm. "Now that we are… officially met, I must bid you welcome to the Master's keep."

"What have you done with Larissa? What have you done with Sarah?!" Yoseph demanded angrily, fuming at the mirror. He raised his gun but hesitated.

"It was all an illusion," Cheshire shook her head. "He was here… as Larissa. He masked himself from me, that's never happened before…"

"My lady, you flatter me with your compliment! And indeed again you are correct - I took the sorceress when you dozed at your post, old man," the vampire said with a sadistic grin. "And the healer, I took just now. You will forgive me for not lingering longer.. but even with my greater experience, dear Cheshire, I fear you would have had me in moments."

"Let's find out," Cheshire threatened.

"I will decline, as I would rather not meet my maker this evening. So, gentlemen, my offer stands clear. You have one hour to decide. Surrender Cheshire to us, and you _all_ go free… Larissa, Sarah, and the two of you," the vampire said with a small twist of his lips. The man gave off an air of elegance that lead Cheshire to assume he was a 'gentleman' in life - the dated, elegant clothing matched the ballroom perfectly. "If you refuse, you who remain will suffer and she will still be my master's new _pet._"

Cheshire blanched as the vampire put heavy emphasis on the last word, and turned her head away from the vampire's gaze - she hugged her arms to herself to keep her hands from shaking.

"One hour," Shane repeated half under his breath.

"Are you… are you honestly debating handing me over?!" Cheshire replied.

"No," Yoseph said. "We aren't."

"Aren't we?" Shane responded coldly. "We should discuss it before making a decision."

"Mm, and if I must further deepen the hole you now stand in, my lady Cheshire, I will add this before I leave you all to it," the reflection of the vampire added. "Ask her, Paladin, what _really_ happened to Shalaz in that courtyard…"

"Fuck you!" Cheshire swore again loudly and wished she had a rock or anything to smash the mirror with.

"Such language! We will have to work on that when you are in _our care,"_ the vampire laughed, revealing his sharp and dangerous teeth before bowing at the waist and disappearing.

"Ches," Yoseph prompted quietly. Shane was pacing angrily back and forth, shaking in pent up rage. "What's he talking about..?"

"We are undone!" Shane shouted. "They have Larissa, they have Sarah!"

"Calm down boy," Yoseph insisted. "We'll get them back. We'll find a way."

"We have a way!" Shane pointed at Cheshire.

"No, you can't! I won't- I won't do it-" Cheshire insisted.

"You don't have a choice!" Shane rounded on her. "And what happened to Shalaz?! What lie did you spin?!"

"I-" she staggered backwards as the paladin stomped towards her, his gauntleted hand wrapping in her shirt and yanking her towards his face. The metal of his helmet shone in the dim lighting, and all too close for her liking.

"Let her go, Shane!" Yoseph shouted back.

"What _did you do?!" _Shane yelled in her face, and Cheshire felt sick.

"Please, Shane, I-" Cheshire turned her head away.

"You can't deny it!" Shane shook her once, hard. "What did you do?!"

"It… Shalaz," Cheshire stammered. "I couldn't-"

"The demon. You fooled us all - for the _demon?! _You took a vow, to never again invade the minds of members of the Order - you took a vow to only use your gift to _protect!" _Shane howled in rage.

"Oh, Cheshire," Yoseph sighed and wiped his hand down his face. "You broke your vow, for that giant thing… It could have killed us all."

"But it didn't! It knew what I did, and it left…"

"You admit it!" Shane shoved her backwards away from him, but was up on her again before she could gain her footing. "I wonder if you'll resort to your tricks to save your life - I should behead you for your crimes!" Cheshire staggered back again, retreating from the paladin.

"No, Shane, don't do it," Yoseph urged quietly, placing his hand on the armored man's shoulder. "She broke her vow - she lied - but she didn't hurt us. She did what she thought was right."

"Sarah is gone! Larissa is gone! All because of her! Because of _her lies!"_ Shane wrenched his shoulder free from Yoseph's grasp.

"And how do you figure?!" Cheshire replied defensively.

"They want you, it's clear - and if you had surrendered to them when that… whatever you're talking about gave you the opportunity - Larissa would be here, safe! They both would be!" Shane stormed up to her, and she could feel the anger through the helm he wore.

"So now you're blaming me for _not_ giving in to the darkness. Make up your damn mind!" Ches shouted back. She stood her ground, and wouldn't allow herself to retreat any further. "You're just pissed because you loved her, and now she's missing and you couldn't stop them-"

Cheshire suddenly found herself on the ground - she wasn't sure how she had wound up there, until she felt the sting on the side of her jaw. She hissed in pain and put her hand to her jaw, looking up at Shane - who had struck her.

"Jesus Christ, boy!" Yoseph shouted and shoved Shane back away from where Ches lay. "I'm just as upset as you are, but you don't go hitting your teammates - we're all here for the same reason!"

"Not her," Shane replied grimly. "She's not here for the same reason, and as far as I'm concerned… she lied to us. She'd been talking to something from the castle for who-knows-how-long. She invaded our minds to save a _demon_! What else is she lying to us about?! She's one of them!"

"I'm not one of them," Cheshire replied, feeling defeated, and slowly picked herself up off the floor. "I didn't want any of this to happen, I don't want any of you hurt, I didn't want any of this!"

There was a long pause as Shane bore a hole into her from the other side of his helm. "Then go."

"What…?" Cheshire asked, not believing what she heard.

"Go. Leave. I don't trust you - and I never will. Your life buys theirs back, and that is more than equal in trade. Go."

"Go… where?"

"I don't care. Into the darkness where you belong!" Shane snarled.

"Boy, you can't just exile her-" Yoseph began, stammering in shock. "You can't just condemn her to-"

"I can, and I have!" Shane shoved Yoseph away from him. "I am a Paladin of the Holy Order. _I outrank you. _I am imbued with the power - and the responsibility - to judge those who are deserving and those who are condemned! And she, _she_ is condemned. As much as I would _greatly enjoy_ killing you myself, Cheshire, you can serve one last purpose in buying us free passage out of here. I will have Larissa and Sarah returned safely."

"Boy, don't do it," Yoseph warned.

"Stop calling me boy!" Shane howled again - his voice almost cracked, and it betrayed the depths of his hurt. Cheshire put her hands over her face and shook her head, not believing what was happening. "We cannot face Dracula as we are. The three of us can't stop him. So we give them what they want. They take her, we leave, we come back with more…"

"Shane," Yoseph pleaded. "We can't do that, it's wrong."

"She is like them - they know their own."

"That's not true," Cheshire said, her voice wavering. "I'm not… I'm not like them, they'll kill me, I can't… please, Shane, don't do this.."

"You lied to us. You hid things from us. I don't believe you when you say you haven't done worse. So I'm going to leave you here before I change my mind and run you through." Shane turned from her and began walking towards the door. "Yoseph. We're leaving," Shane stated emptily from the hollowness of his helmet.

Yoseph sighed, and looked at Cheshire broken-heartedly. "Yeah, boy… I'll be there in a second. I need a moment."

"No, please, don't - Yoseph!" Ches pleaded.

"I gotta follow him, you need to understand," Yoseph said quietly, and put his hands on her shoulders.

Cheshire felt the tears well up in her own eyes, and she shook her head viciously. "You can't… you can't…" she pleaded. "I'll be alone, I can't…"

Yoseph hugged her to him tightly, and she clung to him and felt the tears spill down her cheeks and onto his shirt.

"Stay true, Ches, I have faith in you…I saw it in you long ago. Stay true, and choose death over whatever comforts they offer. The darkness can be enticing, you know that… but stay strong. We'll come back with more, and when we do, we'll find you…" Yoseph said quietly to her, holding her tight to him.

"Now _you're _lying," Ches answered weakly.

"Yeah, but… it'll make us both feel better," Yoseph said, his voice low. "Shane'll answer for this to the Order… I promise you that."

Yoseph pushed away from her, and began to back away.

"No, please," Cheshire begged again, reaching out for him - but he only kept backing away.

"You're strong. You'll survive - find your own way out - they can't stop you, you're stronger than all the rest of us. Even they know it. They're afraid of you. Use that. I'm sorry, girl…" Yoseph turned his back to her, and walked after Shane. "Use your powers - maybe you can beat Dracula. Show us all up. Kill 'em."

And with that, Yoseph was gone. And with that, she stood alone in the ballroom.

Cheshire fell to her knees, her legs weak, and doubled over, letting the sobs rack her body that she had been fighting since the day prior. She heard the bell tower ring half an hour - they had given them an hour, and it only took thirty minutes for them to cast her out.

She was alone. Truly, honestly alone. She knelt there, weeping, for who-knows-how long. Finally, after feeling like she had run out of her tears, and feeling hollow inside, she wiped her face. She stared down at the herringbone wood floor of the ballroom. "What now..?" she asked the floor. Letting out a wavering breath, she slowly pushed herself up to standing. "Linger?" she asked - hoping the shade might appear and offer her some advice or… company.

No response. "Linger, are you there?" she asked again… Nothing. Cheshire clenched and unclenched her hands at her sides. "I won't surrender," she told whoever was listening. "They abandoned me - but I won't give up. I can't."

She picked another exit from the ballroom and headed out of the large, empty space that only served to accentuate how alone she now was. Heading down a long, carpeted corridor, she had been walking for no more than ten minutes before rounding a corner and pulling up sharply.

Of course she couldn't be so lucky.

The vampire from before - the elegantly dressed red-headed man stood in the center of the hallway, but he was not alone. Behind him were… Cheshire didn't know what they were. They looked like they had once been human and then vampire, but had gone wrong. They crawled on all fours like beasts, their long fangs dominating their faces. Their skin hung to their bones like they were malnourished, and she could count their ribs if she tried. The bumps of their spines stuck grotesquely through the skin on their backs. Four in all, the creatures snapped their heads to her, sniffed the air - smelling her - and letting out a terrible, hungry wail.

Cheshire backed up, nearly tripping over herself. The redhead vampire only had a faint smile on his face. Unlike before, his smile wasn't sadistic - but.. there was pleasure in it. She reached out to control him - but found him empty again. Another illusion. "We have been watching you carefully - we know the limitations on your gift. I would not be so foolish as to stand in a room with you alone, so I beg your forgiveness in casting another illusion of myself in my own stead," he said mildly. "I did not introduce myself properly. I am Zadock Ruville," he folded one arm in front of himself and bowed at the waist. "And I humbly ask for your surrender so that we may enjoy our… _mutual_ company."

"No," Cheshire said quietly, her fear leaking through her voice. She reached out to touch the minds of the beasts - or people, or who used to be people - and found… a horrible hunger. An all-consuming hunger and nothing more. Cheshire pulled in a hiss of pain and shook her head - trying to clear the gnawing sensation from her own mind.

"Ah, yes, I assumed as much. And, as I believe you have just tried to do so, I was about to warn you against reaching into the mind of these ravagers. They are feral creatures - barely able to function in this world, let alone… what was the phrase you used? 'Understand their reality in a cognitive sense.' You will find any attempts to control them more pain than efficacy."

Cheshire took another step back from Zadock and the four ravagers - and prepared herself to run. "I won't surrender."

"They will devour you alive, if I let them," he replied mildly again. "Vampires have an interesting trait - if you will excuse the crass explanation - our saliva has an enzyme in it that closes wounds - not instantly, but enough that our victims do not continue to bleed once we have taken our fill. These poor souls share in that trait… and if they begin to eat your flesh, you will not bleed out from the wounds."

Cheshire felt her stomach flip in nausea as she couldn't help but picture it. Zadock continued talking, still smiling at her, his expression mismatched to his words in complete juxtaposition. "Yes, I can see you understand. If they devour your flesh, you will be alive for the duration until they make their way to your internal organs. I recommend then, two courses of action. One, surrender, or two… prepare to run."

"Please, stop," she asked weakly, knowing it was useless.

"Would that I could, my lady," Zadock said with a small, dismissive sigh. "I had my own ideas for how we would spend our evening," he said with a grin. "But, sadly, I have my orders."

Cheshire took another step back, edging towards the intersection of corridors through which she had just passed - she could either head back towards the ball room - and go in circles, or take the other branch and hope for the best. The monsters were slavering now, drooling from their gaping, lipless mouths and snapping their jaws together in anticipation of flesh. _Her_ flesh. They were something from a nightmare, and she wanted nothing more than to just give in. But she couldn't.

"I must implore you again to surrender. These creatures will pursue you endlessly - they _will_ find you, like bloodhounds on the hunt - and they will never tire." He reached out a hand to her, long pale fingers decorated with several rings, the same barely fiendish, yet uncruel expression on his face. "Surrender, there is no shame in knowing when you are beaten."

"I can't, please," Cheshire shook her head. "I can't surrender."

"Ah, but you can, and you will," Zadock lowered his hand. "In time, you will."

Cheshire dug in her heels and ran - making a flash decision to run down the other branch of the hallway away from the monsters and away from the path she had come from. She ran as fast as she could, but she heard the monsters let out a cry of hunger and begin to chase her. Their long claws ripping into the carpets and tapestries as they ran up the walls and tumbled over each other in their sheer _need_ to reach her.

She dared not look back again - and just ran - whirling around corners and down hallways with no regard for where she was running. She couldn't tell if the monsters were gaining on her - they likely were - but she didn't dare turn. Their horrible noises grew louder as they chased her. She rounded another corner, and… found herself in a dead end. A large set of doors stood at the other end of the hallway from her - decorated with a symbol that was unfamiliar to her. It looked vaguely cross-like.

Running forward, with no other option, she gave a shove on the doors - and… they didn't budge. "No!" she cried, and shoved against the doors again - nothing. She looked for a knob, or a lock - or - nothing at all.

She whirled around and put her back to the doors, and scrambled for the .22 handgun that was holstered on her thigh. She flicked the safety off and pointed it down the hallway just as the monsters rounded the corner after her.

"Go away," she said, hopeless.

They snarled and growled at her, and slowly began crawling on all fours towards her - sensing that she was trapped. They were drooling heavily now, the skin long since chewed away off of their faces and having nothing to keep the liquid in. She tried not remind herself of what Zadock had said - that their saliva would keep her from bleeding out while they _ate her alive._

She fired off one round - and struck one of the monsters in the head. He whipped his head back, howled, snarled, and shook his head as if trying to shake the bullet out. But… he didn't die. Didn't even seem to phase him much.

"Oh god," she whimpered and pressed harder against the door.

The monsters were now slowly prowling towards her, their pitiful and horrible cries of hunger filling the hallway.

Abruptly, without warning, they stopped advancing about ten feet from her, and seemed to shuffle nervously from side to side. They looked to be… staring at the door, and then at her, and then at the door. What were they afraid of? Certainly not her. She looked up at the symbol emblazoned on the door - the large cross-like metal shape.

Cheshire yelped and almost wound up on her ass as the door suddenly clicked and swung inwards - nearly dumping her backwards. She staggered back and without thinking or looking where she now was, grabbed the doors and slammed them shut again - cutting her off from the monsters. She heard them wail in dismay from the other side. Finding the lock to the large door, she clicked the bolt, and backed away from the door slowly - her gun still drawn and pointed at the wood structure, waiting for them to plow through.

She continued to back up down the aisle in the center of the room - and through her panic half observed she was standing in a meeting room of some kind? Pews ran along either side of her - alcoves in the dimly lit darkness barely visible in the candle light. Windows, the stained glass too dark to see in the night sky, dotted the walls. She was in the center aisle of.. a church.

Taking another step back, she bumped into a column, and she let out a small 'unf' of surprise. She kept the gun pointed at the door, her eyes locked on it - waiting for the monsters to follow.

Her arms were shaking, adrenaline and fatigue rushing through her body. As her mind started to calm down from the panic of the chase, it slowly began to dawn on her that… the center aisle in a church would be a very strange place to put a column. It also began to dawn on her that her shadow had been overtaken by…. a larger shadow.

She took a slow, shuddering breath, and swore quietly. She took a step forward away from the 'column' and slowly turned… and swore again, louder. She scrambled backwards and raised her gun again.

"Language, my dear, you _are_ in the presence of God," came the quiet, deep, barely-amused velvet voice of the vampire in front of her. He was tall - easily over six feet, perhaps over six and a half - short blond and nearly white hair cropped carefully - and he wore the outfit of… of a priest - a long, jet black coat and matching black shirt with a white clerical collar.

"You're kidding me," she half-groaned. First this place was empty, and now it's overrun with vampires.

"No, but, I understand your frustration," he said quietly, and took a step forward.

Cheshire stepped backwards, matching his advance - but knew she was trapped. She could still hear the beasts howling and wailing outside the door. Where was she to run? There wasn't any other way out that she could see - at least any that weren't past the vampire in front of her.

The vampiric priest was still calmly walking towards her, making no sudden movements, and with each of his long-strided steps forward, she took two back - but she was quickly running out of runway.

Deciding to make her stand, she raised the gun to point as his head, her eyes wide in fear. She kept the gun trained on him, ready to shoot, and he paused his walk towards her - she suspected more out of kindness than anything else. He raised his hands gently. "I mean you no harm, little one," the vampire said quietly. "My name is Lyon, and you are safe within these walls."


	7. Chapter 7

**Hi All, thanks for reading and reviewing! I hope to get another chapter out today, so hopefully the cliffhanger isn't too bad. And to answer a question, Lyon and Zadock are both one of mine - enjoy! **

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"Bullshit." Cheshire lifted the gun – keeping it pointed straight at the vampire's head. Her hands had stopped shaking enough – and her mind had stopped its racing – that she felt even close to calm enough to reach into the vampire's mind.

Reaching out, she sensed him – at least this vampire wasn't an illusion. As she touched his mind, he pulled in a small breath. "Ah, yes, that," Lyon responded thoughtfully. "Of course you would not trust me."

"Do you blame me?" Cheshire kept her gun trained on him as she took control of his reality. She stepped aside, but in Lyon's vision, she remained where she had previously stood. It was a simple trick, but an effective one, if he lashed out.

"No, and neither did I attempt to assert such a claim. But I did not lie to you – you are safe here, I mean you no harm," Lyon smiled faintly, and took another step forward.

The projected Cheshire stood her ground, but tightened her grip on the gun. The real Cheshire stepped aside, and in to one of the pew rows to avoid coming close to him.

"Please, lower your weapon. It would do you little good, if I were of the inclination to place you in such a position as you might need it." Lyon's tone of voice was calm, and his voice was deep and had a resonance to it that made her want to believe him. But she knew better.

Both Cheshire's, though, saw the logic in his statement. The gun was pointless, at least here – and especially when she had command of his world. So, she flicked back the hammer, then the safety, and re-holstered the gun.

"I assume you are masking your location – I did not fight your entry into my mind," he pointed out idly. That was true – he sensed her attempt and let her in… She wondered if he could have fought her off, had he tried. She was glad she didn't need to find out. "I am trusting you, my lady, to not cause my spontaneous immolation or some such similar fate."

"Don't give me ideas," Cheshire responded in a flat sarcasm.

Lyon smirked, and clasped his hands neatly behind his back. "I would offer you food and water. I cannot imagine you have had either in any recent timeframe. "

The false Cheshire stood firm, but the real one let out a wavering sigh. It had been some time since she had eaten – and Yoseph and Shane had left no provisions when they abandoned her, so she doubt she'd be finding anything anytime soon.

"How do I know you won't drug me?" Cheshire asked cautiously.

"I suppose you cannot be sure until it has been proven so," Lyon said with a small shrug. The man was an imposing figure at well over six and a half feet – which clashed with his deep, gentle voice. He seemed to stand as still as granite – not breathing, not moving but to speak. A living person is constantly in motion – breathing, fidgeting, adjusting or otherwise. They are never perfectly still – and that is what partly made Lyon so unsettling to look at. He only moved to speak, or make minor gestures. Not a single movement was out of place.

He felt unnatural. He felt ancient.

"Also, I'm going to call bullshit on you being a priest," Cheshire interjected.

"Oh? Huh," Lyon half-turned to look at the large, golden cross-like metal ornament on the altar behind him. Two candles were lit on either side; the large taper candles topped with silver rings meant to keep the wax from dripping. "Yes, I suppose that would be a surprise to someone whose knowledge of this castle and their denizens is limited to what your order teaches."

"They aren't my order," Cheshire said bitterly.

"You still wear their emblem," Lyon observed. "But I gather your meaning, regardless." He said with a faint smile.

"So you're a vampire who thinks he's a priest – in the middle of Dracula's castle. Enlighten me on how that works."

"If you wish," he responded. Lyon turned his back to her, and walked towards the altar, in no rush. He spoke as he moved. "Dracula was once part of the same order who… it seems held your chains, from what we have been able to gather. He was once chosen by God to walk in the glory of the sun, to fight his battles in the light. And now, God has chosen him to fight his battles in the darkness."

"You're claiming that- But this castle is filled with demons – monsters – creatures that work to further the darkness and the evil of…" she trailed off, not sure if she even had the proper name for it. Now that she thought about it, she knew very little about Dracula, sans the legends.

"The fallen one? No. Dracula," Lyon chuckled at some private joke. "Has no allegiances to 'Satan,' Lucifer, or whatever name he chooses to call himself. He has no love of God, either, to be clear. Dracula has no allegiance to anyone save himself, to be truthful." Lyon stepped up the stairs to the altar, his long legs carrying him gracefully up the stone steps.

Cheshire also noted that he barely made any sounds while he moved –his shoes made little noise on the marble. Picking up a snuffer from the altar, he doused the candles and moved to walk down the side aisle towards a door barely visible in the dimness of the room. "You are welcome to follow me if you wish, if you are hungry or decide you would like to ask any further questions."

She blinked – and was honestly dumbfounded. Who in the hell was this man? Cheshire couldn't help herself – she had to follow. Both real and false Cheshires made their way down the center aisle to follow the vampire. The priest had already disappeared through the doorway and into the darkness.

She could barely see down the hallway until a light flickered into life at the very end of a small hallway. Lyon had lit a gas lamp on the wall, and then turned to continue his walk without a single glance back in her direction.

Cocky bastard knows I'll follow. She sighed. But, she didn't see how she had very many other options. One, she was starving and knew she was likely to collapse from dehydration if she went on much longer without water - and two… there weren't any other exits from the main sanctuary of the church that she could see. So, with the illusion of herself leading the way, she walked after the priest into the darkness.

Stepping through the doorway at the end of the hall, she wasn't sure what she expected, but this wasn't it. The room was a small… kitchen, of sorts. It was barely that – a table, a bench, a few shelves, and a fireplace that looked well used, but not recently. Lyon was placing food on the table – bread, some fruit, and water.

"I still don't trust you," Cheshire said, knowing realistically she had little choice.

"And I still do not blame you," Lyon responded, his voice almost amused. The man seemed nearly devoid of emotion – or if they were there, they were so buried under his unnatural stillness that they were indecipherable. He gestured his hand to the food and the water. "Please."

Cheshire stepped forward, and the false Cheshire hesitantly sat on the bench, while the real Cheshire decided to stand next to the table. Lyon watched the illusion like it was the real her – it was comforting to have control of the man's mind. It meant that at least, for now, she could effect what was happening. She suspected that was the reason Lyon had given her control of his mind so easily – so she would feel comfortable enough to follow him. Either he was honest, or… she was an idiot. Maybe both.

Finally deciding that she had little choice so might as well get it over with, Cheshire picked up the goblet of water and sniffed it – stuck her finger into it and licked it – and upon deciding it tasted normal, took a sip. It felt amazing – the first real liquid she had drank in a day and a half. It then occurred to her that Lyon had no reason to have food or water with him. Unless… "So," Cheshire began. "You knew I was coming."

"There was a strong possibility. Zadock headed you off at a pass – you would likely not retreat back the way you came, and the only other option lead straight to the door of my sanctuary," he explained, matter-of-factly. "Had Zadock not stopped you where he had, you would have arrived in the throne room."

"Oh, good luck on my end," Cheshire responded sarcastically. She had downed the water, and poured herself another glass – sipping this one slower. The grapes that the vampire had put down were calling her name, and she picked up a bunch and began making quick work of them – pacing herself enough that she wouldn't be ill.

The illusionary Cheshire followed suit, although showing a bit more restraint than the real woman. Lyon smiled faintly; he was clearly pleased she was taking him up on his hospitality.

"You enjoy sarcasm, don't you," Lyon observed.

"I have two modes of defense. My 'gift,'" she accentuated the dubious nature of her power being a gift, "And my sarcasm. Where one fails, the other at least makes me feel better about the failure."

"Hah, well, your power works well enough on me, does it not?"

"Seems to," Cheshire responded, again cautiously. "Until I pass out from whatever you've slipped into the water."

"Mm," Lyon said thoughtfully. "That would have been a prudent plan if we were simply looking to capture you. There is no point in restraining you, my dear, when you are captive within this place. You cannot leave the castle, so what point does it serve to further restrain you?"

Cheshire hadn't thought about it that way – and it was horrible how obvious it was. She sat there, staring into the water for a long moment, as the dread returned. There was no point in arguing – she was trapped. Then, the proverbial light bulb went off. "You're not trying to catch me… you're trying to break me."

"You can bend without breaking," Lyon said with a dismissive shrug, like it was a commonplace fact. "Surrender and psychological or physical shattering of a person are very different. Dracula does not wish to see you broken – he wishes to see you kneel."

"The former is more likely to happen before the latter," she insisted.

"For your sake, I hope not," Lyon was standing unnaturally still again. It was creepy, and she tried not to think about it. She took another sip of water, and decided to tear off a piece of bread and munch on it as she thought.

"I really don't think I'm that special."

"Ah, well, you are and you aren't, I suppose. Your power is unique – your gift is unlike anything we've ever seen. So in that way, which is the most important – you are a singular occurrence to us. But your stubborn insistence that you, a mortal, will somehow withstand a test of time such as you will be subjected to… that is foolish, and typical for your kind. You will surrender."

"You resemble my kind, don't forget. You were human once," she dodged the statement. Again, it hit too close to home so she lashed out with snark again.

"It has been… many years since that time," he said, and she almost caught emotion in his voice. Which one, she didn't know.

"How many?"

"Hn…" he paused, thoughtfully, as if counting. "Nearing…eighteen hundred years old, as I figure." Cheshire coughed, and almost choked on the bread. Lyon chuckled – amused at her startled reaction. "I know, I do not look nearly half my age," he said with a genuinely playful smirk.

"Eighteen hundred… but… Dracula isn't even that old."

"No, he is not. He was not the first. But his power gives him his reign, he was chosen for the path he walks. He was chosen by God," Lyon said with a slight tilt of his head. "Which is why he has no love for Him."

"Oh," was all she could say. "And you serve Dracula?"

"He is my King, yes. But I serve God, first and foremost," Lyon paused as Cheshire just watched him – confused. "God is not the creature of light alone that your Order believes – that humanity believes. Humans reflexively think that any God that shepherds them must wish only kindness and love – and that their God could not create such darkness and suffering as we bring."

Cheshire remained quiet as she thought over his words. She couldn't really argue with him – she believed similarly. But to find a vampire priest was just… They weren't supposed to be like this. They were supposed to be simple, uncomplicated – evil.

"God created the fallen one – it was in His great plan… All of this. God has a plan for you, as well."

"You're the second person to tell me that," Cheshire said glumly. "The first was the head of the Brotherhood of Light. The Order. See how much good that did me?"

"Perhaps this is part of His plan," Lyon said with a gentle smile.

Cheshire snorted, and took another sip of the water. "He's a sick bastard, then."

"I never said otherwise," Lyon said, and reached out a hand towards the illusionary Cheshire, meaning to touch her face. The illusion pulled her head back quickly. "I am sorry for what you suffer," he said quietly. Lyon was unfazed, and reached his hand forward again and gently ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. "But your suffering is your own."

The illusionary Cheshire pulled her head from his grasp, and looked away. "I won't surrender, I can't…"

"Why?"

The real Cheshire's hands clenched into fists – and so did the illusion. Her control between herself and the illusion was slipping – keeping them closer in line than she usually allowed, in her emotional confusion. "Because… because I surrendered once before, and I can't let it happen again…"

"Surrendered to what?" Lyon asked gently.

"The darkness…"

"Ah, yes… we heard your arguments with the paladin…" Lyon moved to sit opposite the illusionary Cheshire on a bench. "Will you tell me the story?"

She looked up at Lyon and met his cold, grey eyes – and he was the unmoving statue again. His face was cold, but not cruel – like a statue in a cemetery – carved compassion.

Cheshire fidgeted with the goblet for a moment, but he was content to wait. That's what he said – that a mortal can't outwait a vampire, she sighed. It was true. "Fine," she said quietly.

"I had friends, once. Real friends. They were… like me – as much as anyone could be. Gifted. Nobody trusted us, and that's what brought us together. We weren't evil – but we weren't good, either. We considered ourselves – naively – neutral. But, we allowed ourselves to be hired out for work as mercenaries. Mostly protecting cargo, chasing down some rich guy's daughter who ran off, etcetera. The Brotherhood didn't trust us. Called us monsters, said we were no better than the demons."

Cheshire took a sip of the water, and took a breath before she continued. "We made enemies. One night, a gang torched the house we lived in – anyone who tried to leave was gunned down. I survived… but barely. No one else did. I hunted down that gang and I… made them suffer."

"So I heard," Lyon said quietly. "So your power is… such that… your victims believe it to be real. When I touched you, just then – I felt the warmth of your skin as if you were really there. But I know you are obscuring your presence."

Cheshire nodded. "Follow that to it's conclusion. Those gang members… I made them believe I had set them on fire. Their minds convinced their bodies of it to such an extent their hearts stopped… I had never done that until that point, and… it… wasn't the last time I killed someone."

"Hm," Lyon said thoughtfully. "And then what happened..?"

"I succumbed to the darkness, I guess… so the Order tells me. I didn't care anymore – I was alone, and I just looked out for myself. I swore myself to an ancient god of lies – thinking, foolishly, that he existed or that… even if he did, he cared. I guess loneliness is a hell of a human condition," Cheshire said with a derisive chuckle.

"It is not just a human condition," Lyon responded quietly. "But go on."

"I killed. I thought discriminately, at least, only killing people who 'deserved' it – like I had any right to make that decision. The order – the Brotherhood – quickly took notice. They had been looking for a reason to wipe 'my kind' off the face of the planet, and now they had it."

"Your kind?" Lyon repeated, questioningly.

"Freaks of nature. Humans who aren't fully human. We – my friends and I, until they were murdered – were in the same category with vampires, demons, monsters… and so on."

"Hm," was all the vampire responded.

Cheshire continued. "They sent soldiers against me. Often. Once a month? Every two months or so? I would have to defend myself against them. They all fell. Mercilessly. I got creative – I made them suffer," she said quietly, a far-away look on her face as she remembered their deaths. She mourned them, and the guilt for what she had done still gnawed at her. "The Order dubbed me the 'Queen of Lies.'"

She looked down into the water of the goblet, and in the reflection almost could see what she had done. "One night, they sent Yoseph. I almost killed him. Damned fool thought he could talk me out of it," she chuckled once. "He spouted some crap about redemption and the path of humanity and - I believed him. I spared his life. And in turn, he spared mine. For what it's worth." She paused again. "They took me prisoner – kept me under lock and key while they did what they could do show me the error of what I had done…"

She took a breath. "So that's why I can't surrender," Cheshire said quietly. "I can't let myself return to the darkness."

"But you are already here."

Cheshire – the real Cheshire – almost leapt out of her shoes as Lyon placed a hand under her chin, lifting her chin to look up at him. She dropped the goblet – and it clattered to the floor. He had moved so quickly from the bench she hadn't seen the movement. He was looking at her – the real her. She pulled in a gasp as she looked up at his grey eyes.

"You let down your guard," Lyon said gently. "Your spell dropped, do not be alarmed…"

Cheshire took a step back quickly, and bumped into the wall behind her. Lyon stood, unmoving, and just watched her like the statue he resembled. "I mean you no harm," he said again. "If I did, you would be aware of it by now." He took a step back and gestured to the table. "Now please, sit…"

Confused and conflicted, she let out the breath she didn't realize she was holding. Picking up the goblet from the floor, she walked to the bench and sat down after a moment.

"You are tired, or I doubt your vision would have broken in such a way," Lyon observed.

"It gets unpredictable when I'm exhausted," she confirmed, quietly. Why was she sitting here? Why was she listening to him? She had no choice, she told herself… but she could have killed the vampire when she had the chance.

"I wish to ask a favor of you, if I may," Lyon began.

Cheshire looked up, confused – a favor? "What is it?" she asked.

"I wish to see the sun again…"

The sorrow in his voice almost broke her heart. She cursed herself for being such a softie. She reached out, and put her hand on his – and in that moment, Lyon's world changed.

The vampire pulled in a startled breath as he found himself standing on the ridge of a mountain – her hand still resting on his. They were standing side-by-side. The sky was dim in the dawn, the slightest glow touching the horizon told of the sunrise.

"What a remarkable gift, my lady," Lyon said quietly as he watched the clouds on the horizon.

The sun began to rise – first as glints and shards of amber began to sparkle. The line of the sun began to cross the valley towards them as the glowing orb made its way slowly higher.

She could kill him. She could – make him immolate in the sun. As the line of the sun crept closer over the valley and began to climb the mountain face on which they stood, she looked over at Lyon and…

The sun touched his face as the glowing orb eked over the edge of the horizon. The vampire pulled in a trembling breath. He lifted up his other hand, and watched the sun hit his skin, and turned over his palm. His expression was one of relief and sorrow.

She couldn't do it. Her throat went tight, and she cursed herself in her mind for her own foolishness. He was a vampire. A monster. A demon set on earth to kill. But as she watched him, his face went still – and he smiled, and shut his eyes in the warmth of the sun.

"If I still had tears to shed, I would spill them here," Lyon said quietly, and turned his head to face her, opening his eyes to look at her fondly. "You spare my life, in this moment, do you not?"

"I-" Cheshire began, but just nodded, not able to get the knot out of her throat enough to speak.

"There is great kindness in you," he looked back to the sun, now well above the horizon, washing the fictional valley and mountain in its glow. "To give me this, and take nothing in return." He moved his hand, which she still had hers gently placed upon and turned it over, grasping his hand in hers. "I am indebted to you."

"Let me go, then."

"I cannot. My Lord has asked for you – and I cannot betray him. That is not within my power to give."

Cheshire shook her head, knowing it had been stupid to ask. She let the illusion fade, and released his mind back to him – perhaps foolishly trusting that he wouldn't betray her trust.

Lyon still grasped her hand- and she watched as he lifted it to his face and gently placed a kiss on the back of her hand. She watched, entranced, as he turned her hand over, and placed her palm to his cheek. His skin was cold – but not unpleasant. He shut his eyes again, and let out another small breath. "It has been many, many years since I have been shown such compassion from anyone, let alone a human."

Cheshire gently pulled her hand away from him, and he let it go, and opened her grey eyes to her again, his face resuming the coldness of stone. "I can see why Dracula desires you so," Lyon said quietly. "Your cruelty and compassion are equal matched, it seems."

Cheshire pushed up from the table and walked from the bench, a sudden panic welling in her. She was an idiot. Truly a complete idiot. She let herself be lured in here by this thing and she spared his life. "I need to go," she said.

Lyon stood, and stepped away from the bench. "I have upset you," he stated.

"I don't belong here. I need to find a way out of this place," she insisted.

"There is none – not for you," Lyon said, without remorse. "You are a prisoner here just the same. If you leave this sanctuary, you will be hunted again. Zadock and the others do not dare to set foot in my home for fear, but outside these walls I cannot protect you."

Cheshire took a step away from him, towards the door. "You're just the same."

Lyon laughed. It wasn't an unkind laugh, but it was cold. "If you knew Zadock you would not say such things. He is cruel, my dear – he is jealous of your gifts and if he cannot control your power, he will control you to do so. That is, if he can convince Dracula to let him have you."

"I am not to be owned," Cheshire snapped. "The order held my chains, I won't let anyone else-"

Lyon interrupted. "But it is not your choice to make," Lyon stepped around the table towards her. Cheshire took a step back, and Lyon sighed and shook his head, as if he were dealing with a stubborn child. "You do not understand. Your chains have merely been passed. There are no choices left for you – just how long you wish to draw out the decision."

"I could choose death," Cheshire said quietly.

"I doubt even that," Lyon took another step towards her. "Do you think he would let you die, after all this? There is nothing you can do, no lies you can spin, that will free you from him."

She clenched her fists – now angry that the vampire would assert such control over her. She had some choices yet. Cheshire narrowed her eyes. "You said my cruelty and my compassion are equal. Fine. Let's find out."

"Hm?" Lyon furrowed his brow- and then hissed as he gripped his head, his long nails digging into his hair. Cheshire reached into his mind none-too-gently- and rearranged his world.

Lyon stood up slowly, looked at Cheshire, and dropped to one knee. "My lady," he said quietly. "I am your servant."

"Good," she said quietly to him. "Get me out of this place."

"As you wish," the vampire said as he rose and turned on his heel, leading her out of the small kitchen. "This way."

She followed the vampire, close to his heels as he lead her from the church through a different doorway and down a hallway. No one was around – the only sign of life in the castle was the burning metal braziers against the walls or mounted to columns. Save for the crackle of the burning flames, and the occasional flap of a tapestry in the breeze, there was no noise.

She kept the fiction strong in Lyon's mind – a similar illusion to the one she cast on the dragon Shalak. Cheshire had changed herself in their minds into their queen – someone worth protecting. Lyon lead her around another corner, and stopped. His face suddenly curled in a snarl, showing his sharp fangs.

"I commend you, my dear!" Zadock said from the other end of the hallway, grinning broadly. His red hair was pulled back away from his face. She knew he was no illusion this time – the fires around him lighted him in such a way he could not have been a projection. But she could only control one fiction at a time – and the split-second it would take her to release Lyon and control them both was all a vampire needed to overtake her, she suspected. She didn't dare.

"You will not touch her," Lyon hissed.

"I always wondered how I would fare against the ancient Priest," Zadock said with a prideful smile. He held his hands out at his sides. "And now I have you to thank for gifting me such an opportunity!"

"Run, my lady," Lyon said quietly to her. "He will not pass, but he is a liar and fights without honor," he turned his head half to her, never taking his eyes off the other vampire. "He would use any opportunity to take you."

"Hm, I can't argue with that," Zadock said with a wink at Cheshire. "And you are such a tempting prize. Tell me," he said thoughtfully, tapping a finger on his chin. "How far can you run and still control our Priest friend? Fifty yards? A hundred? Consider that your head start," he grinned. "And when I find you, you won't have the pleasure of tangling with the ravagers…"

"Go," Lyon urged. "I can handle him without endangering myself over much."

Cheshire turned on her heel and ran from the hallway down another path – no clue where she was going, but not wanting to stay for the fight. She heard the sounds of battle behind her – a brazier tumbled over behind her as it was thrown viciously down the hallway. She jumped the burning coals as she ran, careful to not trip.

She rounded another corner and ran through a set of open doors, and found herself in a large hall. She made it fifteen steps in before the enormous doors abruptly slammed shut behind her.

She ducked reflexively at the resounding noise, and whirled to the doors to see it decorated with a pair of large dragons curling up the massive wooden structure – easily thirty feet tall. The metal sculpture depicted the dragons tearing humans to pieces – humans caught in their claws, coiled in their tails – it was a horrific depiction.

Dread welled in her stomach again as she slowly turned about…. "Oh no.." she said quietly, but even that seemed to echo in the halls. "Oh God…"

The room was decorated in three items – stone, red fabric, and horror. Statues of monstrous creatures seemed to form the very structure of the room. The braziers here burned an unnatural blue – lighting the room eerily in uncanny colors. The stone floor was carpeted in deep, blood red – running to a chair at the far end. The chair was an opulent throne – encased in another statue with so much detail it was hard to make out what it was a carving of. But she didn't need to know what it was to know who sat there.

Luckily, the throne was empty. Cheshire almost let out the breath she was holding in relief before a deep voice spoke from behind her.

"There is no God here..."


	8. Chapter 8

**As for Dracula, I'm going with the canon of Lords of Shadow, and his appearance, but changing his personality a bit. Too mopey for me. ;)**

* * *

Cheshire's heart was stuck in her throat so hard she didn't know if it would ever dislodge. She didn't know it was possible to be any more frightened than she was to turn around. But she had to. She couldn't stand here forever.

She reached reflexively for her gun, pulled it from the holster, and undid the safety and pulled back the hammer. She turned, and raised her gun to point it at the head of whoever spoke.

As she saw him, her stomach felt like bricks. There he stood - and he needed no introduction. Towering over her, his red eyes bored into hers. Everything about him radiated power, and darkness. She took a slow step back, and kept the gun trained on him, but he spared it less than a glance as he kept his eyes on hers. His dark hair fell along his face, and he took a slow step forward to match hers. Why was it vampires were always _stalking_ her?!

_Because you're a toy to them,_ she reminded herself.

She cringed as she felt a presence try and exert itself over her mind. "Stop that," she said and pushed the attempt back easily. "It won't work," she snapped, more out of fear than anything else.

He 'hm'ed' in his throat quietly as he watched her. For every step back she took, he matched it. "So it seems. You know your weapon is pointless," he spoke, his voice deep and barely above a whisper - he knew he didn't need to speak any louder to be heard. "Why do you point it at me?"

"I have nothing else to point at you..." she admitted, and she hated that her hands were shaking. "It's worth what measly comfort it's giving me right now."

She tried to reach into his mind - and he hissed in a breath, narrowing his eyes at her as she took another more hurried step back. She felt him rebuke her control - and she tried again - but to no avail. He was too strong, and he was expecting the attack. Panic overwhelmed her as she realized… she couldn't control him.

He moved forward, too fast to be seen and suddenly he was almost on her - his hand gripped the gun and pulled it from her hands. He clenched it in his fist - and she watched as the metal buckled under his unnatural strength like it was a paper toy. He tossed it aside dismissively, and looked down at her, mere inches away.

She staggered backwards again and nearly fell, and he simply walked towards her again. "It seems you cannot control my mind, any more than I can control yours," he observed. "We are mutually immune. Unexpected."

Cheshire's mind was reeling as she desperately tried to think of a way out of this, some escape. None was coming to her. He continued to speak quietly as he approached her. "I am sure in time you could find a way past my guard and into my mind… But for now you are defenceless… For you have no other powers at your command. Where as I, however," he gestured one arm out slowly, and opened his long-nailed hand - and she watched as a long, glowing blue blade appeared at his summon. He gripped the hilt and looked at the blade thoughtfully. "Have many more at my disposal."

Cheshire raised her hands reflexively to defend herself as he stepped towards her, his blade down at his side now, the tip nearly touching the floor as he walked. "Please, I- I don't - I can't-" she stammered, not sure how to begin or what she was even trying to say.

"I know," he responded. The finality of the statement resonated in the room.

Tears welled in her eyes as she continued to retreat from him. She almost screamed as the gigantic wooden doors were abruptly hurled open from outside. Dracula turned his head from her and narrowed his eyes as Lyon stepped inside. If Cheshire hadn't known he was in a fight, she never would have guessed - he was unscathed.

"Step away from her," Lyon threatened quietly.

"It seems I am singularly immune," Dracula observed with a small twist to his lips as he looked back at her. "I am pleased, I would hate for you to disappoint after all this effort…"

"Hardly any effort," Cheshire began, her sarcasm pushing through her nearly crippling fear. "Trapping me here couldn't be anything out of the ordinary for you."

"Hm, are you so sure that was the extent of this?" Dracula shrugged. "No matter. We will discuss this in time."

"Step away," Lyon reiterated, and stepped forward. Cheshire still had control of his mind - she had run so short a distance. "She is under my protection."

"Lyon has been my ally and friend for many centuries, you would pit us against each other in a pathetic bid for your freedom. Interesting," Dracula turned from her to face the other vampire. "Let us get on with it, then."

Lyon held his hands out as his sides, and a gold glow formed around his hands. Golden claws appeared on his hands, metal gauntlets that ran the lengths of his arms to his elbows. With a blink of an eye, too fast to be seen, Lyon had charged Dracula. With a deafening _clang,_ Cheshire flinched and when she looked back the two were locked - the dark haired vampire had defended with the sword he had summoned previously.

Cheshire ducked behind a column as the fight began in earnest - two ancient vampires dueling was a quick and violent affair. Lyon was thrown backwards and careened into the wall, knocking stones loose to the floor. Cheshire ran from one column to the other as Lyon picked himself up, hissed, and dashed back at Dracula.

The sound of the battle raged, and Cheshire was too afraid - or too smart - to peek around the column to look. She ran from one column to the other in a bid for the door.

Cheshire had almost reached the door when the large structure slammed shut again. "You will not escape so easily," Dracula took the time to taunt her as he struggled with the older vampire.

Cheshire swore loudly, and yanked on the door - but to no avail. There was no other exit that she could see - no other door from the space, only windows. She turned back to the fight to see that both Lyon and Dracula were bleeding. Lyon had one hand wrapped around Dracula's throat and was squeezing, the talons of the armor digging into the flesh of the Prince. Lyon had a sizeable cut across his chest.

Dracula was growling in pain, his own hand wrapped around the arm of the priest. With a roar, he hurled Lyon - directly at Cheshire.

She couldn't move in time - the priest crashed into her, and they both wound up slamming against the wooden doors. The impact knocked both her senses and the wind out of her - and she crumpled to her knees, gasping for air.

"My lord!" Lyon was not so dazed by the impact. But, Cheshire's illusion had fallen. "Forgive me," he begged, falling to one knee in front of Dracula, who was approaching them with an unhurried gait.

"It is nothing," Dracula said dismissively. "Your mind was not your own. Now go, before she takes it again."

Cheshire could barely follow the conversation as she pulled in a haggard breath, the air finally filling her burning lungs. The room was still spinning slowly around her, as she placed her palms against the stone to try and keep them still. There was a horrible, terrible stabbing pain in her side.

"What will you do with her?" Lyon asked quietly.

"That remains to be decided," Dracula responded. "But I will not harm her - not yet. Do not worry," he added after a moment. "Your compassion shows on your face, Lyon."

Cheshire struggled to her feet, but couldn't stay standing on her own, leaning heavily against the door. She put her hand to her head, trying to dull the pain. Her shoulder ached, her ribs ached, and her head ached - being hit by the vampire was like being hit with a car, she thought.

She heard a noise - a flap of wings, or, something like the sound of air escaping a container and she felt something breeze past her. Lyon had left, she put together - he had vanished in a cloud of mist. She felt a cold grasp wrap around the wrist of her hand still pressed to her head, and a firm tug pulled her away from the door.

With a yelp, Cheshire staggered, and would have fallen if a hand had not wrapped around her other shoulder, holding her steady. She raised her head and found herself staring into the face of Dracula once again, his face still unreadable and stern.

"You have injured yourself. You are no threat to anyone in your current state. It was foolish to pit us against each other when you could be a passing victim," Dracula moved his hand from her shoulder to cup her chin. She tried to pull out of his grasp, but she was too slow and he, far, far too fast. "Be still," he commanded.

Cheshire let out barely a whimper in the back of her throat, and Dracula leaned in towards her face. She felt his cold breath against her cheek as his lips barely grazed her cheek. He moved towards her neck, and panic gripped her. She struggled. "No!" she cried.

She managed to shove away from him - more because he let her, she suspected. She staggered back, and gripped her midsection with her arm. She winced in pain again, her ribs felt like they were on fire. Her head spun when she blinked. A concussion, she added to the list of injuries.

Dracula just kept his gaze on her, and stood unmoving - his face obscured in shadow by his long black hair, his red eyes barely visible from the darkness. She didn't know what to do. She was terrified, and every option that ran through her mind was hilariously pointless or foolish. He seemed content to let her sort that all out on his own for the moment, and they stood in silence. She refused to speak first - and she didn't know what to say, even if she had.

"I have asked for your surrender," Dracula began, breaking the moment after what seemed like minutes.

Cheshire shook her head - but regretted it, as once she stopped the room didn't seem to get the memo and kept moving. "I won't," she insisted.

"You have nowhere to go, and no place to turn," he held out his hands at his sides, gesturing to the room around them. "You are trapped, and no one will save you. Your 'friends' - whose kinship was dubious at best, cannot help you."

"I know all that," Cheshire replied bitterly. "No need to remind me."

"And yet there seems to be plenty need," he half-growled at her, his eyes narrowing at her cynicism. "As you refuse to accept the direness of your situation."

"What do you want from me..?" she asked, and was surprised how weary she sounded.

"Your gift is unlike anything we have ever seen," Dracula began, and took a step towards her, trying to close the gap between them. Cheshire took a step back, but the room threatened to upend around her. She didn't know if she could do that again without collapsing. "I would have you become one of us," he said quietly. "You belong here."

"No," Cheshire said weakly. "I've seen the darkness, and I won't go back…"

"You have no choice. All that remains for you to decide is how much of your sanity remains when you finally succumb."

"I've seen what happens when you take people's sanity," Cheshire winced again as she felt a stabbing pain in her side. She waited for it to pass before she spoke again. "I don't think I like any of your options."

"Ah, yes, you mean the irritating shadow… I saw that you met him," Dracula sneered. "Yes, he is an example of someone who thought he could best the darkness and lost. Kneel to me, and that is the fate you will spare yourself."

Cheshire opened her mouth to argue, but covered her mouth with her hand as she suddenly coughed. The world around her swam as pain rushed her body. She looked down at her hand,

and saw it covered in blood. She furrowed her brow, confused, not putting together what she was seeing.

"You foolish thing," Dracula sighed, annoyed again. He stepped towards her but she tried to pull back - stumbling back against the large door. He merely closed the distance between them until he was a half a foot away, and put his palm to her cheek, tilting her head to look up at him. Her world was spinning - she couldn't focus on him. "You have injured yourself badly. I will have the healers attend to you before we continue our business."

"Let me die," she insisted.

Dracula laughed - it was a cruel laugh, and his smile twisted up in a sneer as he looked down at her. "How many of _your kind_ have begged me for the sweet release of death? And how often I have granted their wish. But no, little Cheshire… I will not grant you freedom. Too much effort has gone to bring you here."

"What…?" she asked, confused again, as the world swam dangerously, and she felt a cold shudder come over her. She was too hot and too cold all at once.

"Poor little Queen of Lies… Oh, how you have been deceived."

The last thing she saw was the stone rushing towards her face and with that, her world went black.

She was falling - no, slower than falling, drifting - through what, she didn't know… she didn't want to know.

"Cheshire," called a voice.

"Hnn," she didn't want to listen.

"Cheshire, wake up," prodded the voice again.

"No," she grumbled.

**WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY, **yelled a voice.

Cheshire screamed, and sat up abruptly. She was laying in bed - in a room she didn't recognize. It was lushly decorated, the sheer silk from the four poster bed draped down along side her. The moonlight shone in from a large window attached to a balcony, and the rest of the room was decorated in dark blues and white silk. The castle was, in its own unique way, beautiful.

A figure stood at the foot of the bed. The tall, neatly dressed man from her dreams before. The same white mask with the same black hole for the left eye covered his face, the same blond hair pulled back in a neat ponytail.

"Linger..?" she asked quietly.

The figure bowed at the waist.

"So I'm dreaming," Cheshire said..

"Indeed," he responded quietly. "You nearly died."

"Too bad," she said bitterly, and swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up. She was dressed in a floor-length black dress - it was a thin material, but seemed opaque enough to cover her. The neckline plunged dangerously low, though, and the thin straps did nothing for her modesty. A nightgown, she figured.

"I'm scared," she said quietly.

"I know," Linger responded, and stepped forwards. He seemed cautious, like he were afraid that she would spook and run. She didn't move, and let him approach. What harm could he do, when he was a dream? And the closest thing she had to a friend - how laughably horrible that was.

Linger reached out a black-gloved hand, and gently stroked her hair back away from her face, tucking her long brown wavy hair behind her ear. "You must fight to preserve what you can of your own soul," he said.

"I don't know how," she tried to bite back tears, but it was useless. She wiped her hand at them fiercely, turning her head away in embarrassment. Linger turned her head gently back to her, his black glove soft against her cheek as he wiped away her tears.

"Ssh," he tried to comfort her. He held out his arms, and she stepped forward into his embrace. She didn't know him - not really, this broken shadow of a man, but she would take the comfort any way she could, and they were in the safety of her dreams. He folded his arms around her, and she felt him gently stroke her hair as he rested his head on hers. He smelled like incense, and something else she couldn't place. _Old books, _she finally figured out. "I would help you, if I could," he said quietly. "But I am powerless… What is left of me cannot help you, and I can only protect you here, in your dreams."

"It's enough to know you would," she sighed and gently stepped away from him, having calmed down enough to stop crying. He dropped his hands by his sides. "I'm not a cryer, this is awful. What should I do?"

"Any attempt to end your own life is useless now," Linger observed, with a small tilt to his head. She couldn't see his mouth move - not behind the black slit for a mouth in the mask that he wore. The emptiness behind the black hole for an eye was unnerving, but compared to what she was going through, it was nothing. "He has you close, and will not let you die. Even starvation is likely out of your control."

The idea of the vampire force-feeding her made her snort in laughter. Linger tilted his head questioningly. "Sorry, I find humor in the dumbest things and the most inappropriate moments," she began. "I had this mental image of Dracula trying to feed-"

She was cut off as his finger gently touched her lips. She looked up at him, and wished she could read his expression but… the mask hid everything. She stood there, not sure what to do as he ran his fingers gently across her cheek, and down her neck. "I am a broken reflection. I was a man, once," he said quietly to her. "When I see you, I think… I remember what it was like."

She blinked, her mouth slightly parted as he talked. She didn't know what to do - or what was happening. One hand rested on the side of her neck as the other came up to join it on the other side, and he stepped in until their bodies were barely touching. She had to crane her head to look at him - as he too was far taller than her. It wasn't hard, as she was of average height, but she spent her time looking up at people lately, it seemed.

"Find a way to make them believe you have surrendered, without giving them what they seek. Protect what really matters - what you could never regain. Your soul. They will take much from you… but that, do not let them have. Find a way to make me whole again, and I can help you…" He abruptly stepped back from her, and as he did, the dream world tilted.

"What do you mean-" she began, but never got the chance to finish.

**WAKEY WAKEY EGGS AND BAKEY**, yelled a sadly familiar voice.

Cheshire yelped as she shot up from where she lay, and hissed in pain. She grabbed her side with her arm.

**Oooo, that looks painful,** Linger said with a snicker. **I'd say I feel bad but I don't really. You looked really fuggin' funny when you got smashed into by Lyon.**

Cheshire blearily turned her attention to the shadow. She was in the same room, in the same bed, and dressed the same way - but she felt bandages wrapped around her ribs. "Thanks for the concern."

**You're welcome! **The shadow chirped happily. **We didn't think you were gunna make it for a while there. **

"Wish I hadn't," she grunted as the pain continued, unrelenting. She swung her legs over the side of the bed, and felt the pressure on her ribs lessen slightly. Cheshire doubted she could stand - her head felt unglued from her shoulders. Linger loomed up over her, grinning down at her with that insane, cartoon glowing smile.

**M'awwww, Cupcake, don't talk like that! Now we can be BUDS FOR-E-VAR! **It cackled and clapped its disembodied hands.

"Oh goodie," she responded, shooting a half-hearted glare at the shadow.

**Don't say I dun warn you. But you're here now, and you're safe! Those chompy monsters didn't get you. Although they weren't ever GOING to get you. Zadock and Priesty Boy had the whole thing worked out. It was all a show, you-**

"Wait, back up. What?" Cheshire raised an eyebrow.

**Oh yeah! Oh, come on, you think that The Redheaded Asshole Extraordinaire was going to let those things eat you? Puuh-lease. And that whole bit with you controlling Lyon? Yeah, duh.**

"It was all a plan," Cheshire sighed.

**Yup! Come on. Chanes were Lyon's the only one you'd let live, since you're a sap and all. He's too nice. Bet was you wouldn't fry his ass. Zadock on the other hand. But yeah. It was all a plan. Well, up until Lyon trying to kick Drac's ass, that is.**

"How do you know all this?" Cheshire grimaced again in pain, pressing her hand against her side.

**Cuz I listen. I listen a lot. It's all I get to really do. **Linger patted Cheshire on the head again, his oversized hand dwarfing her head comically.

She looked up at him, trying to be disgruntled. "So I spoke to your other half," she said.

**Huh?** Linger blinked his glowing red eye. It made sense - one half had the left eye, the other half had the right.

"Yeah, y'know, the other half of you. He's shown up twice in my dreams."

**Now you're talking crazy. I don't have another half. I'm all me. **

Cheshire shook her head. "Then where's your left eye?"

**Never had one.** Linger looked nervous, and floated backwards, his long shadowy tail curling underneath him.

Cheshire watched his reaction and realized… he didn't remember. The poor thing thought it had always been like that. She was scaring him. She smiled, and shook her head. "My mistake… just the concussion talking."

**Oh. Uh. I should still go… someone's coming. Glad you're not dead! Bye!** Linger vanished through the wall. The instant he did, the door to the room clicked and swung open. A graceful figure, dressed in blacks and greys offset by his red hair, stepped into the room, and she narrowed her eyes. Zadock.

"Go away," she said, trying to sound as assertive as she could.

"Now now," he said, and walked further into the room. He was carrying a tray - a glass of water and a bowl of some manner of soup sat on it. "Master Dracula said you were likely unable to control minds, in your current state… and how could I resist the opportunity to volunteer to check on you? And here I am, happy to find you awake and able to communicate…" He set the tray down on a table by the wall and turned to face her. "And that is how you greet me."

"I would make you believe your face was being eaten off if I could," Cheshire said viciously. He was sadly right - with her head feeling as stuffed with cotton as it was, she was powerless.

"Mmm, I do love a woman with fire," Zadock stepped towards her, and Cheshire stood up to try and move away from him. It was a stupid decision. The room spun as soon as she made it vertical - and her knees buckled underneath her.

Before she could hit the floor, arms snapped around her and easily supported her weight. Zadock had caught her. She pressed her hands against him and tried to push away, but his grip was ironfast. He chuckled, and she felt his lips graze her ear. "If you wanted to be in my arms so soon, you didn't have to play coy."

"Let go of me," she hissed at him, and tried to push away again. He placed a kiss against the hollow of her neck below her ear. She struggled, and gasped in pain as he squeezed his arm around her - pressing against her ribs. "Anh!"

"Ooh, that hurts, doesn't it…" Zadock said quietly into her ear again, and he stepped towards the bed until her knees hit the edge of it. The smell of his cologne filled her nose - it was a heady scent that made her dizzier than she was already. She pressed her hands against his chest, desperately trying to shove him away, but his arm around her wouldn't let her move. He squeezed her tighter, and the pain made her see spots.

"Dracula observed that if you are in pain… it is hard for you to control minds. Perhaps that is the key to breaking your will." Zadock shifted, and pushed one of his legs behind hers, and swept them out from under her. He let go of her as she fell, and she landed with an 'unf!' against the bed. Before she could react, he had straddled her body. She went to strike him, but he caught her hands easily in his and pinned both her wrists up over her head with one hand.

Her head was reeling with the quickness of it all - one moment she had been standing, the other, she was pinned beneath him. "Get off me," she snarled.

"Mmmhmm." Zadock's lips twisted up in a delighted smirk - his eyes glinting with mischief and pleasure. His free hand was hovering along her side, and roamed up over her bandaged ribs. "I wonder which you'll hate me for more… this," Zadock pressed the flat of his hand against her injury.

Cheshire cried out sharply in pain - tears stinging her eyes as he assaulted her wound. She shut her eyes tight as stars shot through her vision.

"Or this," Zadock finished and her cry was cut short as his mouth descended on hers. She felt his cool lips against hers, and by the time her head had recovered from the pain, his tongue was already lazily exploring her own, curling around the inside of her mouth. She felt his teeth prick against her lip.

Zadock turned his head to the side as he deepened the kiss, and she felt one of his legs slip between hers, and his knee push up her thigh, parting her legs and causing the nightgown to ride up. His free hand was now no longer crushing her ribs, but had moved down her side to run his long nails against the skin of her leg where it had been exposed.

"MMfn!" she cried against his lips, and tried to toss her head to buck him off. When it didn't work, she bit down on his tongue and she tasted blood. He pulled his head back and straightened up, pulling in a hiss through his teeth.

She paused, waiting for his anger, but she watched in horror as he grinned and looked down at her, blood barely staining his teeth red. "Ooh, my dear, what fun we will have, you and I…" She let out another small cry as he dug the long nails of his hand into her thigh where his hand had come to a stop - almost breaking the skin.

He leaned back down over her, his one hand still gripping her wrists almost painfully, the other resting on her thigh. "I wonder if Dracula means to take you for himself," he pondered, watching her face thoughtfully. She turned it away from him, but he just leaned forward and placed a kiss against her neck by her ear again. He took his earlobe into his mouth and bit down on it, hard enough to hurt but not hard enough to cause damage. He let go of her ear, and ran his tongue along her skin slowly. She shuddered, and squirmed underneath him, which only made him laugh.

"Such attention you receive while you're here… a girl like you must be thrilled." He said dismissively.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she snapped at him, whipping her head around to glare at him.

He grinned and laughed proudly at his goading of her. "I saw how the paladin pawed at you… You can't tell me you aren't enjoying my _affection._"

"I don't know what you're implying," she replied angrily.

Zadock's hand finally moved from her thigh - slipping up her side, grazing her sore ribs and then up the swell of the side of her breast. She growled in her throat as he did, and kicked underneath him, but he had her pinned and she was no match for his strength. His hand lingered there on the side of her breast before sliding up to her neck. He placed his hand around her throat - his thumb on one side of her neck, tracing back and forth lazily across her jaw.

"I suspect," he said thoughtfully as he watched her, his face hovering close to hers. "That you enjoy such attentions from men. Often, in many positions, and in whatever violent manner you dream up."

"You- _get off me!_" she howled. "I'm no whore, get the _fuck off me!_" She struggled, ribs be damned.

Zadock laughed uproariously, and the hand around her throat snapped back to her hip, pressing it to the bed and ending her struggles. She bucked against his hand, but he wouldn't budge. "Such language!" Zadock cackled. "And such _hate_ in your eyes. You are beautiful when you are angry… I've only seen you afraid and sorrowful until this point, I had hoped to see your anger, and I am not disappointed!" Zadock lowered his head to hers, and she turned it away from him again. She felt his cool breath against her cheek. "Surrender to Dracula, and we can spend our nights together for eternity… Won't you like that?"

"Go fuck yourself," she swore.

"Hmm, why, when I have such other… tempting options?" Zadock's hand slipped from where it lay pressed against her hip and slipped underneath her nightgown, his fingernails brushing against the skin of her stomach, and threatening to move lower.

"Don't… you… _dare…!_" She struggled violently against him, which just made him laugh harder again.

Abruptly, he pulled his hand out from under her nightgown, and sat back, freeing her hands. She laid there, startled, with him straddling one of her legs. "Such aggression! Most women would be crying or begging me to stop - or to continue. But not you. I wonder what else your mouth is good for... You are _such fun_, do you know that?" Zadock said with a smile.

She pushed herself up onto her elbows and pushed back away from him. He didn't stop her as she pulled her leg out from between his and scrambled back towards the other edge of the bed. She stood up, and nearly collapsed again, but held on to the bedpost to support herself. She yanked the nightgown back down where it should have been - glad at least she had underwear on. "I am no whore," she snapped angrily at him again.

"Oh, I know that," Zadock rose from the bed and walked towards the door. "But it was ever so entertaining to see you that angry. It was a game, one I truly enjoyed." He opened the door, and turned to her. "Do eat the food I brought - lest we think you are attempting to starve yourself. And… a word of warning, dear Cheshire? Next time I doubt I will be so _tender_. I don't think I could help myself." Zadock cackled again in cruel laughter as he left, shutting the door behind him.

Cheshire sunk to the bed, holding on to her ribs, and somehow kept herself from crying again. Suddenly, she remembered what Linger had said in her dreams. 'Find a way to make me whole again, and I will help you...'

It was the only hope she had.


	9. Chapter 9

A few hours later, Cheshire had found a bath attached to her room - and was more than happy to make use of it. Stripping off the nightgown, she looked at the bandage around her ribs. Carefully unwinding it, she made a face at the bruise underneath. It was still blackish-purple, spreading out in waves of yellow and orange. It looked as painful as it was.

Both versions of Linger made mention to her near-death. Touching the bruise with her fingers, she winced. She tried to focus on small favors for now. For example, thank whatever God was listening that the castle had discovered indoor plumbing. Turning on the hot water, she slipped into the tub and let out a grateful groan as it washed up around her.

There were few comforts better than a bath, she decided then.

She found some soap, and happily went about cleaning herself - they had been wandering the castle for weeks, and for the first time in that long, she didn't feel grungy.

Cheshire laid back, and dozed off in the hot water, trying to do her best to forget about where she was and what was happening. She finally pulled herself out of the tub long after the water had gone room temperature. Drying off, she carefully re-wrapped her ribs. Moving around wasn't pleasant, but she was learning how to move so that she minimised the pain. Wrapping a towel around herself, she walked back out into the main room and decided it was best to find something to wear other than the nightgown.

She opened up the towering wardrobe in the room, and sighed. It was filled with clothes - another sign she was expected, and expected to be here for some time. "How thoughtful," she said dryly to no one. "It could be worse," she said again to no one. "I could be in a jail cell.." Fishing through what was there, she couldn't find anything that really suited her tastes. Nothing with pants, and nothing that looked even remotely functional. Finding something at at least didn't have gaps in the fabric in inconvenient places, she got dressed - gently pulling the fabric over her sore ribs.

The dress was flattering, at least - it was an off-the-shoulder black dress, the hem of which just barely touched the floor, with a neckline that did little for her modesty. Other than that, it seemed wearable. It wasn't her worst option. She found a pair of black flat shoes - thank _god_ they hadn't just left her heels to wear, and slipped them on. Doubling over to tie them was an adventure in pain tolerance, but she managed.

She had only been sitting in the chair, dressed, for maybe fifteen minutes when there was a knock at the door. Cheshire cringed.

"Go away," she called.

"Unlikely to happen," responded a voice she recognized as Lyon's.

"I don't want another visitor. The last one didn't go well," she answered.

Lyon was silent from the other side of the door for a moment. "I apologize for Zadock."

Cheshire had to laugh quietly at the way he said it - like he had said it many times before. "You both played me."

"I would rather converse with you in person, not through a piece of lumber."

Cheshire laid her head back on the chair, and stared at the ceiling. She let the man wait for another moment. "Fine. Come in." She had to give it to his manners that he didn't come in anyway. HIs manners probably wouldn't have lasted too long anyway.

The door opened, and she lifted her head to look at him.

"Ah," he said on seeing her. "Good, you have discovered the amenities on your own, I hope you are feeling better…" Cheshire just watched him flatly, not sure what to expect. Lyon continued to talk in her silence. "I apologize for being the instrument of your injury, if not the inspiration."

She snorted again quietly in amusement at his comment. "You're risking coming in here - if I'm feeling as better as you say, I'm liable to repeat my mistake." Her threat was thinly veiled.

"Lord Dracula wagers that you will not try to control my mind again, as the last time ended rather poorly. He would have fetched you himself, should he thought it a significant risk. But, the castle is watching, and if you try anything with me, you will not get far."

"You and Zadock played me," Cheshire glared at him. It was meaner sounding than she intended, but she was still angry with Zadock, and was taking it out on him.

Lyon didn't seem offended in the least, and bowed his head slightly. "It was a careful plan, to keep you from harm. We worked in coordination to keep you out of the reach of the creatures in this castle that would mean you _real_ harm. Zadock is… many things, but he is not a sadist."

"I think you're wrong on that," Cheshire responded, anger tugging at her voice again.

"He harmed you..?" Lyon blinked.

"He used my injury to his… advantage," she half-growled.

"Hm, I am sorry for that," Lyon said with a sigh.

"Who is he to you?"

"Sometimes a friend, sometimes an enemy. He is cruel, and plays games, but he would not have done you permanent harm."

"I don't believe you," Cheshire said, looking off thoughtfully.

"I doubt you ever will."

Cheshire shut her eyes, feeling very tired again. "I did you a favor," Cheshire began. "I'm going to ask one in return."

"I can not aid in your escape," Lyon interjected.

"I know." She opened her eyes and turned her mismatched ones to Lyon's grey. At least nobody here seemed spooked by her eyecolor. Not with everything else here being so screwed up. "What's the deal with Linger?"

"The 'deal'?" Lyon asked, his face quizzical. "I have no arrangements or accordances with-"

"No, no," Cheshire said with a small laugh. "It's a phrase. It means - what's his story?"

"Ah," Lyon began and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. "He was human once. A warlock of immense power. This was… many years ago, now. He had gained immortality through his exploits, and sought to take the castle from Dracula. Thought that he could tap into its ancient strength to build on his own. But, he fell in battle, and Dracula spared his life, and gave him the same arrangement as you; Surrender, or succumb in torture. The warlock held out until his mind was torn asunder. What you've met is all that remains of him, a shattered broken mind with too much power for it to fathom."

"Oh," was all she responded. "The poor man."

"He earned every ounce of his pain," Lyon said with a heaviness that caught her attention and brought it back to him. "He was not a good man in life, and he suffers now for those deeds."

"Considering who you call 'Lord' I can't imagine he'd done anything worse," she snorted.

"You would be surprised," Lyon said, looking off thoughtfully. "That warlock would have been the ruin of the world, I think. Dracula makes threats to do so, but lacks the conviction to destroy humanity. He still has a fondness for it, deep within him."

"Then why continue like this?"

"He has no choice," Lyon looked back at her. "He was chosen for this path, and so he walks it. If he is not to reign, then someone else will take the throne. At least he understands his motives, shrouded though they are."

"Don't make it sound like he's doing us a favor," she rolled her eyes. "He's killed thousands."

"And so another would have, in his stead." Lyon shook his head lightly. "It is a balance."

"I don't want to be a part of that 'balance,'" she answered him.

"And for that, I am sorry. But you have no choice." Lyon paused, and clasped his hands behind his back. "Dracula wishes to speak with you, since you are well enough."

Cheshire stared at him flatly, and let out a breath, wanting nothing more than not to have to face Dracula again. "I don't get a say, do I."

"The other option is that he come here, and… he will be in a mood if you make him come to you," Lyon warned gently.

"Last time I met him, I nearly died. I'd hate to see him in 'a mood." Cheshire stood up slowly, pressing a hand to her ribs as she did. "Fine…" she walked forward, and Lyon smiled at her gently. He stepped to the door, opened it, and stepped aside for her to pass.

Cheshire let him lead her down the hallways to the throne room. They walked in silence, his large frame leading the way. They reached the door, and she looked at it with a wavering breath. "Lyon?"

"Yes?"

"Please don't get thrown at me again."

Lyon chuckled and pushed the door, swinging it open, and then standing aside.

Cheshire stopped and looked at him. "Are you coming..?"

"No, lest I be thrown at you again," Lyon said with a faint smile. He reached his hand up and placed it gently on her exposed shoulder. "You will learn to fear him less in time. "

"I don't believe you," she echoed herself.

Lyon smiled broader. "So you keep saying."

She hesitated, staring into the flickering darkness of the throne room. Her hand unconsciously went to her ribs again, remembering their last meeting. She swallowed the lump in her throat, and stepped inside. Ten paces in, and the door shut behind her.

She paused. Her eyes slowly adjusted to the dark - and she saw a figure sitting on the throne, leaning back in a casual, arrogant and somehow manner. He was leaning heavily on one arm, and in the other hand he held a goblet. Filled with what, she didn't need to ask.

"Come here," came his voice from the darkness.

She froze, and fear rushed her again. She clenched her fists, and fought to keep her composure. She walked closer, and finally made her way to the base of the stairs at the bottom of the throne.

"Any attempts to escape will end as productive as the last. You will only suffer for it." His voice seemed to fill the room. He was obscured in the darkness, she could only see his shape.

"Regardless, I will not surrender," she insisted.

"And what, then, is your grand plan?" Dracula stood up, and he walked down the stairs towards her. She backed away, keeping a distance between them.

"I don't know yet," she admitted.

He began to circle her - and she fought not to turn to keep him in front of her. What good would it do? She kept her head turned to watch him though, even if she kept herself from turning around.

"You think to out-wait the unliving," Dracula observed.

"Lyon already pointed out how stupid that was, you can save your breath," she remarked cynically, and turned her head away from him, to hide the doubt in her eyes.

Dracula sneered, and stepped around in front of her. He reached out a hand, and the long nails of his fingers barely touched her chin. She tilted her head back to avoid them, but it served his purpose - her eyes met his. "Such fascinating coloration," he observed. "Tell me… your white eye, is that the source of your power?"

"No, but, good guess. You're close."

"Explain."

"The white eye," Cheshire took half a step back, out of his reach, and looked away again - the weight of his stare too much. "Is the eye I see the lies through. With that, I see my 'gift'" - she said sarcastically again - "and with the other eye, I see the real world."

"Hm," Dracula said with a small smile. "If I were to, then, blind your amber eye…"

Cheshire wrapped her arms around herself to keep her hands from shaking and stared at the floor. She kept her gaze on his feet - and tried not to let the fear overtake her. "I would be lost in the fiction, and… Eventually I would lose my mind." She couldn't keep the tremor from her voice.

"And if I were to blind your white eye…"

"I could still control people, but.. with no guidance as to what I was doing or how successful it was. It would be too unpredictable."

Dracula stepped towards her again to close the distance she had carefully put between them. "Then we should be very careful to not let either happen." The threat was clear. He knew how to _really_ hurt her. "Hold out your hand." Cheshire looked up at him, and hesitated. His face was unreadable and hard. She had no choice - but oh, she _really_ didn't want to. He seemed patient enough to let her work that out on her own, and finally, she reached out her hand to him, palm up.

He took her wrist in his hand - and she jolted as he made contact. She watched him, her heart racing in fear, nervous about what he was going to do. Part of her mind pictured him lopping her hand off at the wrist. He reached into his coat with his other hand and pulled out what looked like a silver piece of… jewelry, or - more like a bracer. She reflexively tried to yank her hand away, but it might as well have been stuck in concrete.

He ignored her attempt, and snapped the piece of jewelry around her wrist - it hinged on one side, and as he folded it around her hand, the seam glowed and… was gone. He let go, and she pulled back her arm, looking down at it confused. There was no seam or hinge anymore, like it had been forged directly to her arm. It was about four inches in length, and fit perfectly to her skin - also part of the magic, she assumed. It had carvings and writing on it in a language she didn't recognise. "What is it…?" she asked.

"We considered dampening your power, but could not find the means to do so that would not cripple you entirely," Dracula explained, his voice as emotionless as his face. "Zadock feared for your sanity and your safety, if we were to remove your powers outright. This, then, was our… compromise. If you use your gift at any time… I will know." He stepped in closer to her and his hand was under her chin, lifting it to look at him - his red eyes still boring into her with their intensity. "If you make the decision to use your gift… you must be _absolute _in your reasoning."

Cheshire stepped back away from him again, and out of his grasp, turning her head away from his glare. "You continue to retreat from me," Dracula observed, and closed the distance between them to prove his point. She stepped back a third time, feeling her heart welling up in her throat. Now she couldn't even use her power - for fear of his wrath. Any fleeting hope she had was becoming slimmer by the hour. "I have never met one who was both so defiant of me, and yet so afraid." Dracula stepped in again, and before Cheshire could retreat, he grabbed her by the upper arms with both hands and held her still.

Cheshire swallowed her startled cry as he grabbed her, and kept her eyes focused on his midsection instead of his face. "I'm sorry, I-" she trailed off, not sure how to finish a sentence she didn't intend on starting.

Dracula sounded amused - although she didn't dare look up to see if his face matched the tone of voice. "You are sorry for your fear, or your defiance?"

"Both..?"

"Ah, you are a confounding thing. Surrender to me, kneel before me, and your life can begin anew," he half-preached, his voice turning to its usual hardness.

She shook her head no, finally daring to raise her head to look at him, and found his gaze just as overwhelming as before - those red eyes digging straight through her soul. "I can't… I just can't."

One hand moved from her shoulder to cup her chin to keep her from looking away. She flinched at his touch, and he smirked again at her nervousness. "Very well… I have other methods, if you cannot be convinced."

He lowered his head towards hers - and for a moment her heart lodged again in her throat. He tilted his head, and moved down towards her neck. "No!" she cried, and tried to push away from him. His other arm snapped around her lower back, pressing her to him and keeping her still. At least, unlike Zadock, he wasn't crushing her ribs. His hand that had been cupping her chin was now wrapped around the top of her throat - not squeezing, but controlling. He tilted her head away, and she struggled against his grip as he bent down and his lips hovering just above the skin of her neck.

"Your heart races in fear… I can hear it, pounding its drum to the tune of your terror," he said, his cold breath touching her skin.

"Please, don't, please-" she begged.

"You belong to _me_ now, girl… I can do with you what I like," he said, lifting his head just barely to speak to her - he was declaring it as fact, without any vindictiveness or cruelty to it.

Her hands were pressing against his bare chest, trying to push him away. "Please," she begged again. "I-"

"What will you give, to spare yourself this? Your loyalty?" he asked, his lips twisting in a small sneer.

Her mind raced, as he held her in this awkward position - her head tilted away from him, as he kept her pinned against him. "If I say no?"

"I will feed from you…"

"If I say yes?"

"I will know you are lying, and I will do so anyway," he said, now grinning sadistically down at her.

"I won't surrender to you," she said, barely above a whisper.

"Very well…"

There was nothing she could do - and everything happened all at once, it seemed. She felt a sharp pain in her neck - a piercing, stabbing pain that seemed to run deeper to her core than just her neck. She cried out - all at once trying to push him away and cling to him for dear life. Then, Cheshire felt all her panic and all her fear be rushed away from her in a singular moment, leaving her feeling… empty, but not… hollow. She let out a small noise, one she barely recognized even came from her at all.

The hand he held around her throat loosened, and slipped around behind her head to cradle the back of her head. Her struggles stopped when the fear left her - her hands now weakly holding on to his coat. The thing that rose to the forefront of her mind… the thing that filled the emptiness leftover by the fear… was the last thing she expected. The last thing she wanted.

_Pleasure. _

The feeling of her blood slowly being pulled from her - piece by piece, drop by drop - as he lazily fed, filled her with not a raw pleasure but a deep, aching one. There was a rhythm to it, a slow throbbing pattern that was half her heart beat, and half the sensation of him pulling her life into him. He took his time, let her feel herself slipping away. The pleasure was almost overwhelming, combined with her growing lightheadedness made it impossible to think. After what seemed like hours - it stopped - she felt him release his fangs from her neck, and slowly lick the wound he left behind. There was a… deep, almost growl-like purring noise coming from his throat, something animalistic that was both terrifying and thrilling at the same time.

Her knees would have long since buckled and sent her to the floor, but he was singularly supporting her weight. He bent, and slipped one arm behind her knees and the other around her shoulders, and picked her up in his arms like she was nothing. She weakly lifted her head, and managed to slump it against his chest. She tried to speak, but nothing came out but a pathetic mewling noise.

"Be still, little one. I am impressed you are still awake… but sleep, now."

It seemed like a perfectly logical idea to her, and her eyes shut of their own accord and she fell into unconsciousness once again.

* * *

Blissfully, this time, she didn't dream.

Cheshire woke up slowly, and was happy to linger in that half-sleeping place where she was not quite awake yet. She was comfortable - by God, she was amazingly comfortable. She snuggled into the pillow, curling her hand into its fabric, letting out a little contented 'mrfmph' from the back of her throat.

Somewhere, she thought she heard a chuckle, but she ignored it. She was too comfortable here. Her asleep mind convinced herself she had been waking up from some awful nightmare - but it was gone now.

She was warm, comfortable, and the blankets were like heaven. She struggled to stay asleep, too cozy to leave it yet.

It took her a long time - a _much_ longer time than she'd be happy to admit - to realize that someone was stroking her hair.

Slowly, piece by piece, her mind started to wake up - and things began to fall into place. Suddenly she remembered what happened, and in a flash she started awake - and jolted upright. Something smashed into the back of her head, and she yelped in pain, grabbing the offending spot as she struggled to right herself.

The world was still blurry as she managed to push herself up to kneeling - she had been lying half on her stomach, and came eye to eye with the thing she had mistaken for a pillow.

"Zadock," Cheshire growled.

"Good morning to you too, little dove," Zadock said with a beaming and amused smile. He looked like the proverbial cat who ate the canary.

"Shut up and get out," she snapped.

"Now now, manners," Zadock leaned back against her headboard. She took in her surroundings - she was dressed in the same dress as she had when… when Dracula had fed from her. She was in the same blue room from before - and in the same bed. The only thing out of alignment here was the smirking redheaded vampire.

"Get that smug look off your face before I _take _it off you," Cheshire threatened, her voice a hiss.

"Mmm, you better make sure it's worth it. Don't forget, _daddy _is watching," Zadock said proudly, and folded his hands behind his head.

Cheshire rubbed the spot on the back of her head - still sore, but already fading. "What did I hit?"

"My face," Zadock said, his smug veneer cracking for a moment.

"Did it hurt?"

"It was unexpected, but no."

"Damn," she sighed, and was glad she was still sitting - the edges of the room were threatening to spin at any time. "Again, get out."

"I came here to deliver a message. I found you still asleep, and, I had nothing else to do, so… I decided to wait to deliver the message," he said, feigning innocence badly.

"Bullshit."

"I am glad you hate me," Zadock said with a coy smile. "Fear I am not the best at working with… but hatred, hatred I can use."

"I'm sure I'm neither the first, nor the last person, to dislike you," Cheshire narrowed her eyes at him. It was true. She wasn't afraid of him - not like she was of Dracula.

"Hm, not even close," Zadock shut his eyes, and stretched his legs back out on the bed, clearly comfortable.

"I'm awake. Deliver your message and get out," she reiterated.

"I think I like it here. It was much more cozy with you snuggled up against my side, though," he grinned again, his sharp teeth flashing as he spoke. "You humans are so very… warm. I suppose any invitation for you to return would be rejected."

"Had I been conscious…"

"I know, I know, that never would have happened. I will steal my moments when I can. Like last night - when Dracula fed from you for the first time. Your fear, your exquisite cries as he punctured your skin… Ohh, that was a beautiful moment." He pulled in an appreciative breath like an visitor to an opera.

"Oh, so you're a pervert _and_ a voyeur. Good. I'll add that to the list of reasons I wish I could make you peel your own face off with your fingernails."

Zadock laughed uproariously. "Oh, you are such good sport. You battle back, it's a rare gift in a woman."

"I wonder if I made you peel your own face off… If Dracula would _really_ hold that against me," Cheshire thought whimsically aloud as she slipped off the edge of the bed and stood up. The room wobbled a bit, but this time it stayed put. At least she was dressed. She touched her ribs - still sore but… mending. Her hand moved to her neck - and she felt nothing. She walked to the full length mirror, and inspected her neck.

"You won't find anything," Zadock said with a smirk. "We have a choice in marring our victims or not. Some of the cruel ones like to mark their territory. Lord Dracula isn't amongst those."

"Hrmf," was all she had to say in response. She tilted her head to look and - sure enough - like nothing had happened.

"You're welcome, by the by," Zadock was now inspecting his fingernails, cleaning them. Cheshire observed that she could see his reflection in the glass - another myth, she assumed. With how well manicured they all seemed to be, she had doubted that they did so without the aid of a mirror.

"Oh? And _pray tell,_ what do I owe you thanks for?" She whirled, happy to have someone to fight with, if she was honest. She had a lot of pent up anger to get out, and the sneering vampire was an easy target.

"Your lovely little fashion accessory," Zadock gestured to the silver bracer.

She looked down at it, and glowered. "And why should I thank you for another rung in my chain? This is just another leash," she said bitterly.

"Ah, yes, but it could have been _so _very much worse," Zadock pushed himself to standing, swinging his legs off the bed and rising in a graceful movement. He stretched, and she couldn't help but stare - Dracula was built, but Zadock was more lean muscle, thinner but quick. He moved like, well, he had several hundred years to practice. She kept her observations hidden behind her mask of anger - it wasn't too hard to remind herself how much she wanted to kill him.

"Dracula wished to silence your powers entirely - wall them up until you were loyal, and only then release them. I argued against it," Zadock walked towards her, and she held her ground.

"Why?"

"Well, the argument I gave Dracula is that a telepath without their gift is akin to suddenly going deaf - that to take your powers away was cruel and would cause you undue suffering that would only complicate his goals," Zadock said, shrugging idly like it was nothing.

Cheshire remembered Dracula saying something to the effect - she narrowed her eyes at him, untrusting. "Why would you help me?"

"Oh, I'm not," Zadock said with another broad grin. "You would be no fun without the element of danger. Knowing that if I push you too far, you'd end me. It's… a wonderful thrill."

"You're an egomaniac and a lunatic," Cheshire accused.

"Guilty as charged, little dove," Zadock bowed at the waist again, and then stood up, and snapped his fingers. "Ah! Yes, the message. Dracula has invited - more of a summon, really - you to dinner this evening."

Cheshire couldn't help but laugh sarcastically. "No, thanks, I was dinner last night, I think I'll pass."

Zadock grinned at her comment, but didn't respond to it. "No no, not like that… He is gathering a few of his generals and his elder vampires together for a meeting - mostly horrid, droll matters such as the defence of the walls and what little human rats we have running about." He gestured his hand in a circular manner, clearly bored. "We dine, on food - Yes," He answered her question before she could speak it. "We _can_ eat food. It does us no good, but it is a social matter. Feeding on the living is… a private affair."

"Unless you're being a pervert," she reminded him.

He snickered in his throat and leaned in towards her. She held her ground, and wouldn't give him the pleasure of watching her recoil. "And by the noises you were making, what a perverted show it was indeed," he whispered into her ear.

She rounded to slap him - but he disappeared in an explosion of mist. She growled loudly in frustration. "Coward!" she yelled.

His disembodied laughter came from the mist as it floated towards the door. "Two hours, little dove, and dress well!" His laughter faded as she watched the mist slip under the door and vanish. She snarled and kicked the chair next to her.

* * *

She felt like an absolute idiot, standing in front of the mirror looking at the dress she had chosen. It was one of the least revealing ones in the closet - and it still was too gaudy for her. But, with the way everyone else dressed around here, it probably wasn't shocking. She pulled at the neckline, trying to budge it higher, but no dice.

The worst for her was, it revealed enough of her back that parts of the thin-lined, black tattoo could be seen. It took up most of her back from just between her shoulder blades to just above her lower back. A symbol - a magical circle, with writing around the edges that was indecipherable to her. She sighed. Another leash - one meant to be permanent. This one from the Brotherhood of Light. Here she stood, wearing two leashes to two diametrically opposed groups - and her, stuck in the middle.

She shut her eyes and fidgeted with the silver bracer on her wrist. She could spin it around her arm without hurting herself, but any attempts to squeeze her hand through it and be free of it were useless - she already had a red mark on her hand to prove that.

Looking at her reflection in the glass, and the dark blue dress with silver trim, and its bizarre shapes that seemed to echo the architecture of the building - and her eyes dwelled on the necklace. The pendant of the Brotherhood of Light - the cross, entwined in vines. She still wore it, she wasn't sure why. Part of her defiance to Dracula? Or that she couldn't admit where she was and what was happening?

Should she be struggling? Should she refuse, and be dragged kicking and screaming? Why was she attending this 'dinner' willingly? Was she already giving in..? She grit her teeth, and let out a small sigh. What was the use in struggling? 'Give them what they want, but protect your soul' had been the Dream-Linger's advice. If she fought, she'd be in some dank cell, likely being tortured. Dracula and the others seemed content to leave her _mostly_ unharmed if she just quietly refused and chose not to rail against them.

It could be worse.

She felt a presence in the room suddenly, and she snapped to attention. She whirled her head and narrowed her eyes - she couldn't see anyone… but she felt them. "Who's there?" No answer. She kept searching for the presence… but the more she tried to grasp at it, the more it disappeared.

"_You look beautiful, my lady," _came a voice from the mirror. She turned, and her eyes went wide as she saw the Dream-Linger, the man in the mask, standing in the mirror, over her shoulder. She turned her head, but the image was in the mirror only - there was no one behind her.

"I look like a fool," she said with a small laugh. "But thank you."

"_I grow stronger when I am near you - I am only here, because of your strength of will allows me to use some of your power to manifest so," _he said sadly. "_I sensed your turmoil. I cannot stay long. You are doing well. Do not danger yourself to fight this battle - You cannot win against them in a frontal assault. There is another way to fight than the direct path."_

"So you said.. If I made you whole, you-"

"_Yes. I would free us both of this place. Find a way to make me whole. It will not be easy, there is… not much of me left." _

"I'll try, I don't know how, but I'll try," she said quietly to the reflection.

The image in the mirror bowed, and then vanished. Cheshire moved to a chair and sat down, and let herself some time to think. Dream-Linger's comments made her feel… a little bit better. That she was right not to struggle against them outright, but to fight them in the shadows. She was an illusionist, after all - picking up the proverbial sword would only get her hurt… or worse. If she could find a way to free Linger, to make him whole again, she'd be free. Even Lyon had said how powerful Linger had been as a man.

It gave her a flicker of hope - a flicker of a reason to continue on.

Hopefully, she could find a way to survive long enough to do so.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thanks Yamilian for the wonderful review! :D **

**Enjoy!**

* * *

_This is damn stupid_, Cheshire thought to herself as she watched the strange monstrous skeleton… thing, open the door for her. _This is damn stupid,_ she repeated to herself. _You should run. Cry. Scream. Throw things. Kill a few of them. Make them kill you. _She fidgeted with the bracer on her arm, the new leash she wore - her 'gift' from Dracula to keep his eye on her power.

_This is wrong. This is stupid. _She chewed on her lip. _Here you are - dressed in their clothes, following around his monsters, answering his summons. This will only end badly. _She tried to repeat to herself what the man in the mask had told her - that if she held on, if she found a way to put him back together, he'd free them both.

Could she trust him? She knew nothing about him - not even his name. Only that he was a warlock who died in his pursuit of absolute power. Not someone to be trusted. But… did she really have any other options? She didn't want to die - didn't want to commit suicide in resisting them, but she didn't want to give in. She _couldn't._ Never mind she had no idea how to resurrect the shattered warlock in the first place.

Cheshire was inside the room now - the 'great hall' - and her train of thought was cut off. She froze reflexively, and wanted to retreat back through the open door - but all eyes were already on her.

She knew there were plenty of creatures that lived in the castle - a building of that size and age was likely to collect a whole host of residents. Although she had only met three vampires - four, if you counted the one they had killed their first night in the castle - she had been happy to assume that there were no others. And here she stood, proven wrong. Here she stood, realizing exactly how futile her defiance might actually be.

By her quick count, there were at least eleven vampires in the room - and a few others that didn't bear the trademarks of a vampire, but were likely not human. Dracula, shrouded in shadows, sat at one end of the table. Lyon, to his left. She didn't see Zadock - there were two empty seats at the table. It looked as though the food had already been served. She had no idea who any of the others were - men and women, vampires all of them. They all looked just as… severe as the ones she had met.

"Come now, don't be shy," came a voice too close to her ear for comfort. Zadock. He had appeared behind her.

Without thinking, and without any caring - she whirled on him, and slapped him as hard as she could, using every ounce of her strength. The _crack_ of the impact sounded impressive, at least. Zadock reeled his head to the side, and took a half-step away from her. When he looked at her, it was in genuine shock.

"If you _ever_ sneak into my room again, vampire - leash or not, I'll make you eat your own fist," she hissed at him, glad to vent her anger. Zadock was still staring at her in silence, agog.

It was Cheshire's turn to be shocked as the room burst into laughter. She turned her head, and found that the table was in uproar - the vampires she didn't recognize were clearly amused with the show she had just put on. Lyon was smirking at her, and Dracula… she could not see his face, but he was as still as a statue.

"Oh, my Lord Dracula, she is a _fun_ one, isn't she!" chimed a woman whose hair was a dark green from one end of the table. "I can see why you wanted her," she said slyly.

_Stupid idiot,_ she swore at herself in her mind. She always let her anger overpower her reason. While they were laughing, clearly enjoying her knocking Zadock down a peg, she had overstepped. She looked back at the crimson haired vampire, and found him looking down at her with a fiendish grin. One that told her she'd pay for that later. She glared back at him, not letting her doubt show.

"Come, sit with us, precious thing," the female vampire chimed in again, gesturing to one of the empty seats. The two empty seats were next to each other. _Phenomenal, _she sarcastically swore in her head again. But, without a choice, she walked towards the chairs.

As she moved to sit, the chair was pulled away - Zadock, again, still grinning at her, though now far less sharply. She met his stare, and after a moment, sighed. She sat down in the chair, letting him push it back in for her. The green-haired woman was sitting across from her, and she looked up at her nervously. Zadock took his seat next to her, and went about pouring him - and then her - a glass of what she assumed was wine. She _really_ hoped it was wine.

"What beautiful eyes," the woman said with the same sly smile. She wondered if vampires always sounded like they were half-flirting, half-threatening you.

"Thanks," Cheshire responded, clearly not believing it.

The vampire woman grinned in response. "Ah, I see, you still view your power as a curse. Well, my dear, I am sure that if you were not so talented, you would now be dead."

"If I weren't so 'talented,'" Cheshire half-smirked. "I wouldn't be here in the first place."

"Touché," she conceded. "But how _wonderful_ it is now that you're here. Although I am sure you would beg to differ." The woman smiled. "You will join us in time, you'll see."

Cheshire picked up the glass of red wine, and sipped it - yes, thank God, it was wine and not the other option. She looked into the reflection of light on the surface of the liquid, and debated her answer. Finally, she looked up, and echoed Dream-Linger's words. "I will either join you, or fight until there is nothing left of me."

"That is quite true," the woman responded, all mirth gone from her face. "Many have chosen either path, and all I can tell you is that more suffering lies down one than the other."

Cheshire remained silent, and thought about the female vampire's statement - but she didn't make it long before someone else spoke up. "I am anxious to see a display of your power - we have heard much of your magnificent _gift._"

Cheshire looked up and met eyes with another down the end of the table, a dark haired man - bearded, burlier than the rest. His voice was cavernously deep and sounded… inhuman at the edges. Almost animalistic. "I- uh - what?" She responded uselessly.

The gruff man snorted. He wasn't human, his eyes had a strange glint to them - but he wasn't a vampire. His teeth looked sharp enough, but he lacked the… same feeling that the others had. But this was Castlevania, he could be anyone, or anything. "You heard me. Work your tricks."

"I'm-" she glanced down the end of the table, to the dark shadowy form of Dracula, who sat reclining in his chair, seemingly bored. "Not sure… if… that's allowed."

"I can speak to her power," Lyon inserted quietly. "As I fell victim to it myself."

"You're too trusting, too easy to fool," Zadock replied, swirling his wine in his glass, then sipping it. "I've tricked you, it's nothing special. I too am eager to see her power."

"That is why we're all here, is it not?" the jade-haired vampiress spoke. "I know that is what I was hoping for, regardless."

"You're all very trusting," Cheshire commented and took another sip of the wine. "If I had you under my control, I could kill you all."

"Doubtful," the gruff man snorted. "You can't control Dracula - we know _that_ much. You wouldn't do much damage before he twisted your neck around."

"Duncan, be quiet," the vampiress snapped at him. "You are speaking to our newest Sister. She just does not know it yet. You are too quick to make enemies."

Cheshire blanched at the word 'sister' but managed to keep it mostly internal. She stared into her wine again, happier to not have to make eye contact with any of the monsters around her.

"I'm not making '_enemies,' _I'm stating _fact,_" Duncan snarled. "And she is not our 'sister' yet, _Elizabeth._"

Elizabeth turned in her chair towards Duncan and was about to speak when Dracula silenced the argument. "Enough." Was all it took.

Cheshire barely breathed, and didn't dare look down the table at the vampire lord in the shadows. She kept her eyes locked on the reflections of light on the surface of the wine.

"You know, if you stare at it long enough, I'm told you can see the future," Zadock whispered to her, and she shot him a vicious glare that only made him smile. She wanted to throw the wine in his pretty face, _so very badly._ But she resisted - at least for the moment.

"Quiet, Zadock," Dracula warned. The crimson-haired vampire sighed and sat back in his chair, his game having been spoiled. "Cheshire," the lord of the castle spoke again.

She hoped she didn't go as pale as she felt as he said her name. She carefully put down the wineglass and placed her hands in her lap to keep her hands from shaking. But she couldn't bring herself to look at him.

"_Cheshire,"_ Dracula repeated himself, commanding her to look at him. Letting out a wavering breath, she looked up at the vampire king - glad she couldn't see his face in the shadows, although she could make out just the bare hints of his red eyes. Now that he had her full attention, he finished. "Show them."

She shut her mismatched eyes for a moment, trying to decide. Dance like a pet monkey, or refuse and suffer for it. "And if I say no?"

"I will let them decide what to do with you this evening," Dracula responded simply. Again, there was no malice or cruelty… just a simple fact.

"Oh, do say no," Zadock purred from next to her. "I could think of _many_ things we could do together..."

"If you ever do feed _dear brother Zadock_ here his own fist," Elizabeth began. Cheshire opened her eyes and met the gaze of the female vampire. "Do promise you'll let me watch." Cheshire smiled despite herself, and received a matching smile from the vampire.

"Well, of course, leave it for the women to bond over a hatred of me," Zadock sighed and leaned back again in his chair.

Cheshire kept herself from rolling her eyes and reached out for her wine glass again. Taking it, she downed the glass, which received a short laugh from Duncan. Putting the empty glass down, she decided. "Fine."

It wasn't hard to take control of them all - there were sixteen in total, sans Dracula who she still couldn't grasp hold of. The others were easy… even Zadock. As soon as she finished the word 'fine,' their world had changed.

She wasn't sure what to do with them all, so she did the first thing that came to mind. She went home. The sixteen vampires-and-other-not-human-residents of the castle found themselves standing with Cheshire in a field, of sorts. Paved walkways crisscrossed the grass, and benches lined the walkways. Street lamps dotted the darkness, and structures and statues could be seen in the shadows. A ballpark was just to one side, and on all edges of the park were tall, lit steel buildings. Traffic honked nearby. She had brought them here late at night - but even so, smatterings of people could be seen walking along the pathways or sitting in the grass, their conversations easily overheard.

Duncan nearly toppled himself over, now finding himself standing. He growled deep in his throat and sniffed the air - and growled louder. "What sorcery.."

"Not sorcery," Cheshire corrected.

"They _smell_ real - where-" Elizabeth began.

"My home. Well, not literally. Welcome to the Boston Common," Cheshire walked over to a bench - although in reality, she hadn't moved from her chair. She climbed up onto it, and sat on the back of the bench, and watched the gaggle of monsters react to their new surroundings.

A squirrel ran by Zadock's foot, and he made a half-startled, half-disgusted face at it as it scurried past. "This illusion is… very convincing," he half-mumbled to himself.

"To you all, it might as well be real. Even if I were to remind you of what you all know - that you are all still sitting around some gaudy feast in some gaudy room in the castle, it wouldn't matter. In truth, none of you have moved. But that's not what the rest of you _knows._ That you're here, in a park, watching people go about their business."

Duncan snarled deep in his throat, and he moved too fast to be seen - snatching up the squirrel that was making its way towards a tree. The squirrel started screeching and thrashing in his giant grasp.

"I can feel its little heart beat," Duncan observed, sounding angry. "It's real."

"No, it's not," Cheshire propped her elbow on her knee, and her hand in her palm, supporting her head, almost bored. She hated these 'demonstrations.' She had to do them often for the Brotherhood of Light. Usually, whenever she did any demonstrations like this, either people were too terrified of her to ever speak to her again, or she was punished for doing what they asked. She expected half of the vampires would want her dead by the end of this.

Duncan hissed and snarled as the 'squirrel' in his hand bit down on his finger, drawing blood. He chucked the squirrel, who recovered in mid-air and was off running by the time he hit the ground. Duncan looked down at his bleeding hand and narrowed his eyes. "It hurts."

"Of course it does," Cheshire sighed. "To you, it's real. If you were to die in this dream, you'd die in reality."

"How?" Zadock asked, looking around, scrutinizing everything. He reached down and picked up a piece of loose rock from the pavement and ran it around in his hand.

"I have control of all your senses, and even your short term memory if I wanted it. Everything your brain receives that tells you the what, where, who, and why… I control. So if I were to…. suddenly make the sun rise, and decide you were all going to burn to death… your mind would be convinced it was real."

"Would that kill us?" asked another vampire, who had previously not spoken.

"I'm not sure. Works on humans, anyway…" Cheshire admitted. "I've never tried it on a vampire."

"I would rather not volunteer," a second vampire added. Lyon was quietly standing by a street lamp, staring up at its electric glow.

"Can't anyway. As he pointed out-" Cheshire gestured to Duncan, "Dracula would just twist my head around backwards. It takes a few seconds for the body to be convinced by the mind that it's dead, and.. I wouldn't have seconds to spare."

In the real world, Cheshire turned her head, just barely, to the vampire lord. All sixteen people were sitting in silence, perfectly still, their eyes unseeing of what was around them. Cheshire saw both - sometimes it became overwhelming, to manage both realities at once, but, she had practice.

"If I were to kill them," Elizabeth pointed to a couple who was approaching them from down the pathway. "If I were to feast on her pretty little neck," she commented about the young college student who was arm-in-arm with her boyfriend. "Would I taste it?"

"Yup," Cheshire replied. "You would. You'd think it was real, until I dropped the illusion."

"And if I were to attack you," Zadock asked, still running his thumb along the rock in his hand. "What then?"

"Depends on what I wanted you to see. I write the fiction. If I were to let you attack me, sure, fine, you could think you killed me - but only because I was 'playing dead.' We're all just still sitting around the table. If I wanted you to fail, you'd fail." Zadock's expression was unreadable as he watched her. Cheshire just shrugged. "It's a trick I used to do to the Brotherhood all the time. They would think they had successfully killed me, and if I wanted to spare their lives, they just left thinking they had succeeded. If not, then, well.." she trailed off.

"How many men have you killed?" Elizabeth asked her, admiration glowing on her face as she looked around the imaginary world with wonder.

"I'd… rather not say," Cheshire muttered.

"Come now, don't be shy," Elizabeth smiled back at her, that same half-flirting half-threatening tone of voice returning.

It might have been the glass of wine on an empty stomach that loosened her tongue - but she decided, why not… What was the harm? "Thirty seven members of the Brotherhood of Light. I remember them all. And… eighteen others, either mercenaries or… other people," she admitted sadly, and looked down at her shoes on the bench. Admitting it only reminded her she couldn't give up - couldn't let them convince her. She'd be that monster again.

"An impressive count," Duncan grumbled, "For a mortal."

"No, not impressive. I was wrong," Cheshire stated firmly. Duncan turned to look at her, and she met his stare without flinching. "What I did - was wrong. Those deaths are on my hands, and that is why I won't surrender. They died because of my foolishness and I won't fall down that hole again. How many lives have you taken, Duncan?"

He stared at her silently for a moment - all the others were now watching the conversation, the false world around them almost forgotten. "I do not remember," he responded quietly.

"I remember every single one of them. I can see their faces. I see them in my sleep, and every time I shut my eyes. The ones whose names I didn't know when I killed them, the Order made sure I remember now. I know the names of their children, their families… I know who they left behind. And it's _my fault._"

The real Cheshire stood up from the table and walked away, to face the windows in the hall - namely because she was about to cry. _Again._ She hated this - she wasn't a crier. Not until she came here to this damned castle. She didn't want Dracula to see her weakness - although she was sure he already knew. She managed to swallow down the tightness that threatened to make the tears spill over, but she still needed a moment to get them out of her eyes.

"So that is why I will never surrender," the illusionary Cheshire shook her head, and was glad she could write the fiction of her own appearance in her lies and keep her reflection from showing her distress. "That is why you'll all end up having to kill me, or deal with my insane ghost when that's all that's left of me. I won't add more faces to my list."

"And who says Dracula would have you murder more people?" Elizabeth asked.

Cheshire laughed - both of them - a sarcastic, biting and almost mocking laugh. She couldn't help it - that was the dumbest thing she had ever heard since coming to the castle. The illusionary Cheshire stood up on the bench and jumped off. "You're not an idiot, Elizabeth, don't act like one. What other purpose would I serve? Sending you all on vacation time whenever you wanted?! No- he wants me here to kill - like all of you. I just kill in a new, _unique_ and entertaining way. That is the only reason I'm here."

"Hmf," was the vampiress' only response.

"I've had enough of being the toy monkey," Cheshire said and with that, the illusion faded away. A few of the vampires gasped, and Duncan snarled low in his throat.

Cheshire was still by the window, looking out at the darkness of the forest and mountains, and the castle below. She wished she could hurl herself from the window. She wished she could run - she wished she was free.

She wrapped her arms around herself - careful of the bruise still on her ribs, and shut her eyes, lowering her head. Cheshire couldn't fight the tears now, and one slipped down her cheek. She wiped at it fiercely and was glad when it wasn't joined by friends.

Cheshire heard the sound of chairs being pushed away from the table, and quiet, muttered conversations and the sound of the large door opening and shutting. She assumed, without turning around, that they had left. Cheshire was perfectly convinced to stay where she stood, her eyes shut, trying to calm down her emotions.

A hand fell on her shoulder, and she almost leapt a foot in the air. Starting, she whirled her head, and saw Lyon standing beside her. He said nothing - just looked down at her with a saddened expression, and turned to walk away.

Cheshire watched him leave through the large door - and realized she was alone except.. except for Dracula. He had sent them all away. Fear tugged at her again - she didn't like being alone with him. Bad things happened.

He pushed himself up from the chair, and stepped out of the shadows for the first time that evening. He was dressed similarly to before - all in reds, and blacks - an archaic outfit that screamed of his power. He walked slowly towards her, and she wished she could have shrunk back further, but she had nowhere to go - she couldn't step through the window, as much as she wished she could.

"You fear that I will force you to add blood to your hands," he said quietly, his voice resonating in the space.

"How do you.." she blinked in confusion - he wasn't part of the illusion. He couldn't have heard her.

He was near her now, and reached down to grasp her wrist - the one wearing the silver bracer that was her leash to him. He picked up her wrist, and she tried to pull away - but he didn't even budge. He held her wrist up so that they could both see the bracer. "I share in your gift, now, do not forget… I see what you see through your white eye."

She tried to yank her wrist away from him again, and this time he let her. She felt violated, somehow - but wasn't sure why. He could see the illusions she made - same as she did. So now he saw the world the way she did when she used her gift. Somehow that felt… wrong. It felt like he was invading something private. It was nonsense - there was nothing private about an illusion that others were part of. But still, the feeling was there.

Cheshire turned her head away, and wished she could retreat again - wished she could put distance between them. But her back was now to the window, and she would have to side-step. She didn't like being scrutinized like this, and she wanted to hide from him desperately. "I won't kill for you," she whispered.

"I have thousands who will kill for me, and many who are better at it than you," he said dryly, a small twinge of what might have been humor to his voice.

"Then why..?" she asked, but he only raised an eyebrow at her question, not understanding. Or, at least, demanding clarity before he would pay her an answer. "What do you want from me?"

"Your loyalty."

"But to what end…? What purpose would I serve, if not to add to your army of monsters and demons?"

"I have decided," he began, as if she had not spoken. "To allow you the freedom to roam my castle. You are a prisoner here, but not resigned to your rooms. I do not need to urge you to be cautious, there are those in this place that would be pleased to defy me and decorate their walls with your remains."

Cheshire fought the urge to swallow the lump in her throat. He hadn't answered her, very clearly on purpose. But he was now… giving her freedom..? A bigger cage, anyway. "Why?" she asked, again.

"Would you rather be confined?"

"N… no," she stammered. "But.. I don't understand…"

"Barely any understand my motives," Dracula began, and raised a pale hand to her face. She flinched as he touched her, his long nails brushing against her cheek as he placed his palm against it. "In that you are not alone."

Cheshire worried for a moment that he was planning to feed from her again - but he only withdrew his hand and turned away, walking from her. She let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding. "If your life is in danger, use your gift to protect yourself. But do not take the life of anything within these walls, or else you will answer to me, do you understand?"

"Yes." Cheshire fidgeted with the silver bracer on her arm for a moment before she worked up the nerve to speak again. "May I ask a question..?"

"You may," he replied, stopping his exit and turning to look at her.

"What happened to… Yoseph, Shane, and the others?"

Dracula's red eyes bored into hers for a moment before he answered. "I set them free."

The way he said it… the dark, foreboding tone to his voice… didn't make her feel any better. If anything, it planted the seed of doubt in her mind. But, she knew better than to ask him if he were lying - she didn't think Dracula was the kind who appreciated being second-guessed.

She chewed on her lip, and nodded once in understanding. Dracula turned from her again, and walked into the darkness, and… she was alone. Cheshire sighed, and made for the door herself. She was tired, and she could only hope that she knew the way back to her 'chambers' by herself.

Stepping into the ornate hallway, it felt… so odd. So bizarre, walking alone, unhindered, and left to her own devices. Other than going back to her rooms, she had… no idea what to do.

It took her what she figured was probably an hour of wandering around in circles, but she finally managed to find her way back to her rooms. The place was confusing, and seemed to make no sense or be laid out in any logical manner. _Of course it doesn't make sense,_ she reminded herself. _The castle is alive. It's changing. The path is never the same._ She wondered how anyone else managed to get about on a daily basis without becoming horribly lost.

She opened the door, stepped into her room, and shut it behind her - glad for the relative, and probably fake, safety of the familiar blue and silver bedroom. She wanted a bath - and to sleep. Walking to the center of the room, she reached behind herself to find the string for the lacing of her dress in the back.

"Undressing so soon..? My… so eager."

She tried to whirl around - tried to hit the owner of the voice she was starting to know so well - but his hands gripped her upper arms and kept her still - she struggled against them but they were like stone. "Zadock, let me go and get the _fuck_ out of here," she snarled.

"Mm, yes, I saw the extent of your wrath earlier today," his head was close to hers, his breath touching her ear. She turned her head away from him and struggled - but he was so much stronger than her it was useless. "You humiliated me."

"You deserved it," she snapped back. "Go away!"

"Mm, I think not." Zadock wrapped one arm around her midsection, pinning her to his chest. He took his other hand, and pulled the strap of her dress away from her shoulder, pushing it down her arm, dragging his cold nails against her skin as he did.

"Get your hands _off _of me!" she snarled at him again.

"No," Zadock laughed.

"I'll-"

"What are you going to do?" Zadock purred into her ear. She could feel his chest vibrate with his words, pressed up against her back. "Tell on me..? Oh, please.. Do go rush to Dracula… and tell him I've mistreated you, I would love to see his response… Since he told me to be here." His free hand ran down her arm slowly, pushing the strap of her dress down her arm until the fabric threatened to roll down and expose her breast. She grabbed the fabric, holding it in place with one hand, trying to elbow him with the other.

"Bullshit - get off of me!" Her heart was pounding in her ears - she was afraid of how far the vampire would go.

"Is it now? And such language… Don't make me gag you," he laughed again in her ear. His hand slid from her arm to her stomach. His hand slid along the fabric of her dress, just barely grazing her skin. She struggled as his hand started to roam upwards - just barely touching her as he slid up over the skin between her breasts and to her neck. He rested his hand then, his hand wrapped around her throat, and turned her head to face him. She felt his cool breath against her cheek as his hovered his lips over her face. "I want you, little dove… I want you more than I've wanted anything in a long, long time… and I will have you."

"Go to hell," she snarled at him.

"I have long since arrived." He craned her neck around further to face him, which made her arch her back and half-twist in his grasp - she struggled again, and it was just as useless as before. He looked down at her, his orange eyes heated with passion. "And here you are to join me." He kissed her then before she could respond or fight, devouring her lips with a hungry need. She let out an angry 'mffn!' against his lips, but he neither responded nor seemed to hear her. He kept his grasp on her neck - squeezing just enough to keep her from pulling away.

His kiss stole the breath from her lungs, and when he finally broke away, she was lightheaded and gasping slightly for air. He chuckled. "Ah yes… the mortal need to breathe… so overrated.." He ran his tongue slowly along her lower lip, and then took sudden advantage of her open mouth. He ran his tongue in between her lips, sliding along her teeth and her own tongue, and he locked lips with hers again.

His arm that was around her midsection let go, and spun her around to face him - and he deepened the kiss. The hand around her neck slid to her hair, pulling on her it tightly as he held her head in place, not letting her turn away. Her head was spinning - the smell of his cologne filled her nose, and in combination with him controlling her breathing, she was barely able to think.

He pressed her backwards, causing her to stagger back until her knees touched the bed. He broke the kiss suddenly, his cool lips leaving hers abruptly as he whirled her around - facing her back to him again - and pushed her over the footboard of the bed. She yelped as she fell forwards, and tried to push herself up, but one of his hands was now on the back of her neck, pinning her to the bed.

"Mmmh," he laughed in his throat, and she felt him press his hips against her, pinning her legs to the bed with his own.

"Let me go," she snarled at him, and struggled against him. He only laughed louder now.

"Yes, keep squirming, that's nice," he purred at her. She realized what he meant - she realized what that… that bulge was, pressing against her core, through the dress.

"Don't make me sick, let me go," she hissed angrily at him.

"Oh, don't worry… I'm not the kind to rape you," he said as he pressed his hips harder against her, groaning lightly in his throat as he did. "However tempting… You are so _very warm..._" His other hand was now undoing the laces of her dress, pulling them from the holes slowly, one at a time.

"Get… off… of… me…" she repeated.

"Now don't be boring," Zadock said with another purr. "You are anything but. You see, I will have you - I give you my word - but you will _ask _me for it. When the time comes, you will _beg._"

"Doubtful," she snarled.

"I think I will have you kneel to me first," Zadock said thoughtfully as he continued to unlace her dress. "Then I will bring your surrender to Dracula. Although, I think I have very different plans for you on your knees than he does," he said with another throaty laugh.

Cheshire struggled again, tried to turn over - tried to kick him - but he just laughed louder, and pressed his hips against her again - digging his bulge into her so hard it almost hurt. His laugh cut off in a groan he couldn't control. She felt him lean down over her, felt his coat brush the skin on her back. "Careful now… you may make me change my mind and ruin my wonderful plan," he growled breathily into her ear.

He straightened up - his hands grasping the edges of her dress and he pulled it down around her waist. She was still face-down in the bed - and now couldn't stand up, for fear of revealing herself. Her bandages quickly followed suit. "Mmh… what a sad, marring thing that is," Zadock slowly traced the skin on her back, running a single nail along the thin-lined black tattoo that she bore, the leash to the Brotherhood of Light.

"Stop," she said, although fear had removed all of her conviction. Fear, and if she admitted it, somewhere in her, something else. She stamped that down before it could see the light of day.

"I could remove it for you - permanently. Painlessly," he added, his sharp nail still slowly tracing the work. She flinched as he ran his nail over a sensitive spot near her side, and she shut her eyes tightly. He laughed again at her turmoil.

"But I won't do it for free," he said thoughtfully. His other hand joined the first - now that she wouldn't stand up for her partial nudity. "That is my plan, then… To have you sell yourself to me, piece by piece. That way, we both win. I get what I want, you get what you want…"

"No," she snarled.

"Not even for a kiss…? Think of it… just one kiss, and that relic on your skin of days gone past - of slavery to the Brotherhood - gone. their power removed. I've already kissed you, what is the harm..?" His nail traced low on her back, following one of the long straight lines of the tattoo, down to her lower back. She thought for a moment he wasn't going to stop - but he lingered longer there than he had elsewhere.

Cheshire laid there, and… was honestly considering it. She swore at herself in her mind - why was she falling for this? He could be lying to her - but she doubted it was that easy to dismiss. She was tempted… in more ways that one. Damning herself, swearing at herself in her mind - she couldn't help the burning in her core. That part of her was _enjoying_ this game.

But she wanted that leash removed. She wanted that reminder of their betrayal removed. And it was just a kiss. He had already kissed her several times - and… what was one more? _You're admitting you'll play,_ she told herself. That was the harm. Her dignity. _But you don't have to play again,_ she argued with herself.

"Just one kiss… and this is gone," he cajoled.

God help her.

"Fine."

She didn't need to see his face to hear the grin plastered on it. "Ooh.. what a wonderful choice…"

She felt both his hands press flat against her back, and she cried out loudly as something burning seared across her skin. She squeezed her eyes tight in the pain, her hands clenching into the sheets. The pain lasted for a few moments before his hands lifted. The burning slowly subsided, and she let out the breath she was holding, pulling in another shuddering gasp.

"There, it is done. I may have fibbed about it not hurting." Zadock stepped away from her, and she felt the pressure against her body he was causing release. She pushed herself up, and quickly gathered her dress to her chest with her hands - covering herself. She turned, sitting on the edge of the bed, and saw Zadock leisurely stroll to an armchair across the room and sit down, crossing his legs at his ankles, watching her with a smug smile. He gestured with one hand to the mirror.

Standing, still keeping the dress pressed to her chest with one hand, she walked over to the mirror and half-turned - and… her back was clean. No tattoo. Unmarred. "It's truly gone, this isn't some… scam, some trick."

"No, a deal is a deal… I never lie in a business dealing - I may mislead, but I never lie. That magical seal they placed on you is gone," he said, still smugly smiling. "Tell me… what did it do?"

"It was a kill switch," she said quietly. "If I ever went wrong again… they could use that to end my life immediately..."

"Well, it's a good thing we removed it, then. I wouldn't put it past them to preemptively kill you once they received word you were captured." Zadock said with a grin. "And put you out of your misery."

She shot him a glare - it all clicked into place. "Wait. You knew what it did. That was your _plan._ That's what Dracula sent you here to do! You tricked me-"

"How did I trick you?" he laughed. "We made a deal! I told you I would remove it in exchange for the listed price. You agreed."

"You would have done it anyway!"

"That was not part of the negotiation. As I said - misleading, but not lying," he grinned a predatory smile.

"Get _out_," she snarled.

"Not until I've been paid."

"No!"

"We had a deal - and you should never go back on a deal with me, my little dove," he said, still grinning.

"Now you're threatening me."

"It is no threat," Zadock leaned his head against the back of his hand, watching her. "I collect what I am due - and if you do not pay me _willingly,_ I will collect with interest…"

She squeezed her eyes tight and swore under her breath.

"Language," he chided.

"Fine…" she looked at him, hate burning in her eyes. "Get up."

"No." He was grinning again, like the proverbial cat.

Cheshire stepped towards him, and let out a sigh. Better to just get this over with. He saw the look on her face and tutted. "Now now, make this count… Or else I'll get my money's worth anyway."

She wanted to use her power to take over his mind - to make him believe that she had kissed him. But Dracula would know - _and see what happened -_ and that was a shame she couldn't live with. Not to mention that this probably did not count as 'life threatening.'

Stepping forward again, she walked to the edge of where he sat in the chair. Still clutching the dress to her chest, she leaned forward and bent down to kiss him. He waited, still smiling, as she hovered her face near his.

She met his lips with hers, and shut her eyes - he tilted his head back to give her a better angle and he deepened the kiss, slipping one of his hands gently around behind her neck, but not holding her there. Slowly, after a long moment, she pulled away. She tried not to think about her quickened pulse or… anything else, she just tried to focus on how hideously angry she was at him.

"You did not disappoint," he purred, clearly proud of himself.

"Now get out," she demanded.

"Very well… have a lovely night, little dove." He vanished into a swirl of mist. "Sweet dreams…"


	11. Chapter 11

Zadock appeared within his chambers, not bothering to use the door. When one can travel as mist or as bats, it always seemed pointless to _walk_ anywhere. As he gathered himself together and took physical form, he couldn't keep the thin smile off his face. Playing with the new mortal Cheshire was _fun._ Fun rarely came to vampires - let alone ones as old as he was. He cherished it when he could.

Walking towards the coffin that lay on a low raised platform in the middle of the room, he looked up to the windows and the dark night beyond it. Despite what the humans who set foot in Castlevania believed - time did move on, and the sun did still indeed rise. While it was not visible under the castle's cloak of darkness, it rose none the less. His internal clock - as will all vampires - still knew when the sun was blazing overhead and he, sadly, needed rest. He had stayed too long with the little illusionist, and it burned a great deal of his strength to stay active after the dawn had come. At least, though, there was no literal burning involved.

His fascination with the young woman was legitimate - her power was unlike anything Zadock had ever seen, and he wanted it for his own. But, he could not steal her power - not at least without murdering her - and Dracula wouldn't have that. So, he would have her gift another way, by making her, his.

Lifting the lid to the coffin, he wondered idly what the king of the castle planned for her. What he had done to get her here was a convoluted, and years-long gamble. Ahh, yes. She knew nothing of that. It would be fun to 'sell' her that information. He grinned as he laid down in his coffin - she played at hating him, but he could see the glimmer of excitement in her eyes when he tormented her. She wanted to fight. More importantly, he was wagering that she wanted to lose. And so, he'd give her a battle she wouldn't forget.

He laid down, and shut the lid, feeling the pull of unnatural sleep tugging at him before he even had laid his hand back down.

He didn't get to sleep for long.

When Zadock was a young fledgeling- back around the 16th century - he had to move his coffin often from town to town, and he remembered the feeling of being woken up from his sleep by being dropped, or jostled about on a carriage. The worst was once when he was dumped face-down, when the idiot mortal humans upended his coffin. This was… kind of like that.

Zadock woke up with a start as his head smashed off the lid of the coffin abruptly - then the back of the coffin - then the side, the lid, the side, the back, the lid - he couldn't get a grasp on what was happening, and turned to mist to stop the abuse.

He was glad he did, for the instant he turned to mist the coffin ceased to exist - smashing into a thousand pieces on the stone floor of the courtyard. He took form standing on the cobblestones, and looked up the tower to see the gaping black hole that was once his windows. Wincing and holding on to his head - it dawned on him that someone had hurled his coffin - and him with it - straight through the windows. It wouldn't have killed him, but it would have caused serious damage - especially with wood shrapnel. Zadock made a mental note to make his next coffin out of metal.

He didn't get through his thought in any real detail before he abruptly found himself airborne once again. The ground hurtled past him as something collided with him - a stone pillar that was kind enough to stop his trajectory.

**You will LEAVE HER BE!**

Zadock snarled quietly and picked himself up from the rubble that fell with him - his impact had cracked the pillar and bits of it rained down around him as he stood. He looked across the courtyard - to see the ghast that haunted the halls of the castle - the remains of the warlock's power.

"Oh… Yes, I forgot, you two have a budding friendship, don't you.." Zadock brushed some dust off of his sleeve, flicking a small rock off of his shoulder. "I assure you, I am no threat to your friendship. I desire something _entirely _different."

Zadock knew that many people saw his arrogance and his gift for provocation as the result of his power. His illusions, his magic, and what-not. It wasn't quite so. Zadock always had a pension and a natural talent for insults and angering others - it was his powers he had to struggle to develop to deal with the aftermath caused by his natural born _gift. _The chicken and the egg, so to speak.

He remarked on this in his mind as the wraith disappeared through the cobblestone floor, and he followed suit - disappearing into a cloud of bats and reappearing standing on the railing of a balcony that overlooked the courtyard. The shadow didn't reappear, but he knew that it wouldn't have gone far. "If I didn't know better, I would think you were jeal-"

Zadock grunted in pain, and coughed - he tasted blood on his lips. The shadow had reappeared behind him, and dug his claws straight through his chest. The ground was falling towards his face again - and he managed to dissipate to mist at the last moment. Reappearing, standing by the remains of his coffin, he looked down - three large holes punctured his chest, remnants of the shadow's claws. He could feel his lifeblood oozing into his shirt.

The sound of the wraith's voice came from behind him, the low, base whisper reverberating in the echo created by the courtyard. **I know better than to warn you to stay away from her… but if you lay your hands on her like that again…** _**I will tear your arms off and eat them.**_

Zadock turned, holding his hand to his chest- like it would do any good. His body had begun to heal the damage, but too slowly. He was too weak now to fight back, or to run. He had to save his strength, or else the wounds would prove fatal. He looked up into the glowing, ember eye of the shadow. "You've done a foolish thing by attacking me," Zadock growled.

**And what would you do?! What would any of you do?! You cannot **_**hurt us!**_ The shadow howled with laughter. **Dracula has done his worst, you see me at the height of our **_**punishment. **_**We have nothing left to lose.**

Zadock took careful note that the shadow used the plural when he spoke… he wondered who the other part of 'we' pertained to. "Is that so?" Zadock couldn't help himself, he was ever the sharp tongue. "That used to be true… but now apparently, you have something new to give up."

His threat was clear - and effective. The shade reached up one large, disembodied hand, and struck him again - Zadock was too weak to dodge. He flew back, and heard a sickening _crunch._ It took him a moment to realize that the crunch was from him.

Looking down at his ribcage, he saw a large shard of the wood from his coffin had broken through his ribcage when he landed - it stuck out from the back, covered in dark black blood and bits of bone. Zadock watched his blood trip down the piece of wood for a moment, confused, before his world went to darkness.

* * *

At least wandering the castle gave her something to _do._ She didn't realize that being imprisoned would be so… damn boring. She sat in her room contemplating her life for about five hours before that became too dull for words, and she decided to venture out.

After rooting through the drawers, the wardrobe, and anyplace she thought might store clothing, she finally found a small favor. Pants. She wasn't a 'dresses and skirts' kind of girl - and if she had to run, she wanted to make sure she _could._

Dracula had made a point to warn her that the castle wasn't safe - regardless of her new imprisonment there. So, she wore clothing fit for making a break for it. Flats, a pair of slacks - britches - whatever they were - and a black, fitted tunic that reminded her surprisingly of home. Wasn't the most fashionable thing she'd ever worn in her life, but it was comfortable.

Taking the fourth left around a corner, she looked at the hallway and sighed. She then decided to play a game she just invented called 'How Escher Is This Place' - pulling out a small pad of paper she found in her room, and a pencil she discovered in the same drawer, she made a notation on the map she had drawn. The answer was 'very.'

"I think you're messing with me on purpose," she said to the castle. She had also taken up another unhealthy hobby in the past few hours she had spent wandering about. She had found herself talking to the castle itself. She didn't know if it could understand her - but she knew it was listening. She could feel it, now that she had time to focus on it - the low uncurrent of some… great energy, some… not-quite-conscious mind, like a riptide under the surface of calm waters. It made sense - that this was some kind of dream of some ancient power - it felt like a waking nightmare half the time.

She was also counting the different colors of fire. She had four, so far - red, purple, blue and green. She was starting to learn the decor of the castle - different areas of the castle had different feelings to them. She walked past a massive library at one point in her wanderings, and noticed that the columns, walls, and statues were now carved elegantly out of wood. Some of the statues were of greek gods, biblical figures, or… biblical demons.

One of the statues had followed her for a while - which was insanely creepy, but it seemed more curious than anything else. She had played 'red light green light' with it unintentionally. Every time she turned her back, she'd hear a rustle. If she looked at it, it would stop. No, more like it was one of those ghosts from one of the Super Mario games. But, when she left the library, it stopped its creepy stalking.

So far, she had lucked out - nothing seemed aggressive. She had come across a few other 'living' - or at least animate - things in her walk. Most left her alone - or watched her curiously, as a mortal human must be a sight to see - a few made strange noises at her and hid.

She took her sixth left - having counted out her paces - and for the third time she should have doubled back in a circle, but found herself in a different hallway. This place was nuts. "As much as I love this 'how many lefts can I take and still wind up in a different hallway,' it's getting boring," she sighed. "Take me somewhere interesting, would you?"

She took another left turn and walked through a doorway that wasn't there before - and she had to laugh. Maybe it _could_ hear her. She found herself now standing in the courtyard where her and her 'companions' had landed after she had tricked Shalak into bringing them there.

Cheshire stepped out into the courtyard, and noticed there was some.. rubble in the middle of the cobblestones. Weird, that hadn't been there before. Taking a few steps forward, she noticed there was a figure - limbs at least, sticking out from the rubble. She jogged forward, and slowed to a stop as she neared what she could only assume was a corpse.

She thought for a fearful second that it was a human, some other mortal adventurer - or worse, one of her previous friends - who had met their end. She stood there, dumbfounded, as she was staring at the corpse of… a vampire. A vampire she recognized. Zadock.

Or at least, she assumed it was once Zadock. The vampire's attractive features were now pulled back and gaunt, thin flesh against a skeletal face. His hair was still crimson, but was matted back with blood. His lips were drawn back, shrunken against the pointed teeth of his jaw. He looked like he had been dead for years. His hands, still wearing the rings he bore, but now loose on an empty shell of a body, were gripping a wooden spike that stuck clean through his chest.

The spike was covered in dried, mottled blood - bits of broken bone and tissue lodged in the mess. It resembled molasses in color - and she assumed in texture. She recognized Zadock more by the clothes that the man was wearing than his face. She took another step forward and shook her head. "What the hell happened to you..?"

Was there another hero here? Another sent to kill Dracula? Who could have done this? She doubted, although no one seemed to bear Zadock any real love, that any of them would have come to blows with the redhead.

Cheshire knelt down near his corpse - and she tilted her head to the side. She had never seen a vampire like this before. The few vampire-esque monsters they had killed had all evaporated into dust. Including "Lord Crendo" - the one who fell the first night they were in the castle. She wondered why Zadock did not die in a similar manner, and was yet a corpse.

She suddenly had her answer.

Cheshire screamed as the body suddenly lurched towards her - both hands leaving the spike through its chest as he thrust his claw-like hands at her, grasping at the air. She fell backwards, and crawled away from the living corpse as it hissed at her, and let out a painful, hungry wail. She had heard that noise before… the ravagers that Zadock himself had sent on her.

She was out of its reach, and it was impaled on the wood and could not follow her. She slowly got to her feet, and watched it thrash and hiss at her still, trying its damnedest to get to her, no doubt to tear her apart in his hunger. Cheshire debated her options. Leave… or… help him.

Or kill him.

She added that to her list as an addendum. Really, though, abandoning him like this might be the same thing - she was sure someone would come along and find him soon, but… she honestly had no idea how long he'd last like this. The vampire tried to roll over to crawl towards her, and screamed in pain as the wooden spike dug deeper into his ribs. His thin, skeletal frame oozed more of its dark black blood as he struggled. He was killing himself in hunger. In his mad need to feed on her.

Cheshire took a step back. She should leave him here. Let him die or let someone else save him. The vampire was a monster, and she hated him for his stupid games. She turned away, and began to walk from the courtyard.

When she neared the edge of the ring of columns around the open space, she stopped. The column looked like it had been hit with some massive object or a wrecking ball - she assumed it was during some kind of fight, and either Zadock or his opponent was said wrecking ball. She wondered what he fought against that beat him.

The wail that came from behind her - the pained, hungry, pitiful wail was… heartbreaking. It broke off in a hissy, breathy sob that had no tears to shed with it. She turned her head to look back at his living corpse and… Zadock was the perfect picture of suffering.

Cheshire rested her head against the stone column and shut her eyes tight. "You're a fucking idiot," she swore at herself. "You're a bleeding heart, fucking idiot."

She made her decision.

Turning back towards the vampire - she took a deep breath… and took control of Zadock's mind. It was like walking through an open door into a burning building. She almost fell to her knees in pain as she felt his mind - his suffering was so absolute that it flooded into her mind and almost was too much and caused her to withdraw. She struggled to keep hold of him, and finally managed to re-write his reality.

Her amber eye saw the frail, corpse-like monster laying on the ground, surrounded by splintered wood and dried blood. Her white eye saw Zadock, standing in front of her now, looking confused and shaken.

Cheshire let out a breath of relief and leaned against the column. Zadock looked back - she didn't hide the image of his own corpse-like body from him, and his brow creased in confusion as he tried to make sense of what was happening. His deathly remains were now laying still, filmy and sunken eyes having shut in relief from the absence of pain. She was blocking it from his mind - making him believe that what he was experiencing was painless.

"You…" he began, and she found him rarely at a want for words, still staring at his body on the cobblestones.

"I'm protecting you from your own pain," she said quietly. "I wasn't prepared for what I walked into, though," she weakly chuckled. "That hurt."

"You're helping me," Zadock stated, doubt and confusion in his voice.

"I guess so," Cheshire responded and pushed away from the pillar. She walked towards his corpse, past his illusionary self, and began to carefully step across the blood-soaked cobblestones, picking her way along, careful to step on the dry protruding rocks and out of the mire of inky-black substance that had spilled from him.

"Why..?"

"I honestly don't know," she admitted with a shrug. "You were suffering. I couldn't let you suffer. " She reached down to his body, and pulled the scarf from around the corpse's neck. It was mottled with blood, but wasn't soaked. She wrapped it around the wooden spike sticking from his chest, and grabbed it with both hands. She yanked, and it remained stuck.

Cheshire heard Zadock grunt in disgust, and she turned her head towards him. "Would you rather I hide from you what was happening?" Zadock had turned halfway, and was looking at her askance.

"No," was his simple reply.

"You look pale," she said with a mischievous smirk. "Are you feeling okay?"

"Now you are being facetious," he shook his head. "I am dying, and you are facetious."

"Meh, Dracula will be here shortly I assume," Cheshire gave the spike another hard yank, and with a sickening slurping noise she managed to pull it out of his chest. She made a face and a 'blarf' noise at the gruesome sight and sound. She chucked the wood aside, and took a step back. She watched as the wound in his chest began to close itself - but it quickly slowed its progress, unable to heal fully.

"Are you so sure?"

"He can see the illusion I'm casting, thanks to your mutual 'gift,'" she raised her arm, indicating the silver bracer. "It's why I'm making you watch your own corpse. So he can see it."

Zadock watched her now, and narrowed his eyes at her, but remained silent. It was like he was struggling to understand her. She was right there with him. "I should have turned and left," she said with a sigh.

Cheshire walked past his illusionary self and he reached out to grab her upper arm to stop her. She let him, and turned to look up at his confused face.

"Thank you," he said quietly. And for the first time, she thought he might have been sincere.

"You owe me one," she answered.

Cheshire pulled in a startled breath as a swarm of bats - dark as night, descended on the courtyard. She almost dropped the illusion as Dracula appeared, storming towards her with rage in his red eyes.

"I didn't do it!" she half-yelled. "I swear to God I didn't do it!"

"She didn't," Zadock repeated her statement. Dracula turned his attention to the illusionary Zadock, and narrowed his eyes. Cheshire reminded herself that Dracula saw her illusions the same way she did - half and half. It still felt wrong. Zadock spoke again. "It was the warlock."

"The warlock is _dead_," Dracula hissed.

"His shadow remains. His shadow did this," Zadock responded.

Cheshire blinked. "Linger?" she asked - but the two men ignored her.

"Impossible. That thing is too far gone to summon any of his power, let alone attack you," Dracula growled. "Explain yourself."

"I know not!" Zadock exclaimed. "The wraith attacked me, and left me there to die. She found me, and the rest I believe you saw."

Dracula paid her no mind as he whirled from the illusionary Zadock. He walked up to the corpse, heedless of the puddle of blood, and narrowed his eyes at the seemingly peaceful corpse. "Drop your illusion, girl."

Cheshire winced. She knew what would happen when she did. "Fine." She looked at Zadock, as if to ask if he was ready for what was going to happen. The crimson haired vampire looked resigned. So, she did as she was told. The illusionary Zadock vanished, and the corpse on the ground howled again, the pain returning anew.

Dracula dug his nails into his wrist, and knelt down - shoving his wrist into the vampire's mouth. Zadock's corpse latched on to his master's wrist like a dying man to water, and Dracula growled deep in his throat.

Cheshire took a step back to stand near the column, half-hiding in the shadow just for her own sake. After a few moments, Dracula wrenched his wrist free of the corpse's mouth, and took a step back.

Zadock was still howling in pain, but now, he was pulling at his chest with his fingernails, hissing and writhing as she watched his body put itself back together, bit by bit. Flesh filled in the hollow spaces between his ribs, and his face seemed to fill out, rotting in reverse order. After a few moments of watching him…. un-die, Zadock was now laying on his side in the puddle of dark blood, gasping for air. The holes in his chest were gone, although still mottled with blood.

"Get up," Dracula snarled.

Zadock weakly pushed himself to standing, and was immediately back on the ground as Dracula decked him across the jaw. Cheshire winced as the crimson vampire crumpled under the blow.

"You are a fool, and your arrogance lead you to this. You should have known, if that creature attacked you, that something was awry and you were in danger. While your childish naivety is what nearly had you killed, _hers -_" Dracula pointed towards Cheshire, and she winced as he did. "Is the reason why you _live!"_ he yelled. It was the first time she had heard Dracula raise his voice, and… she wished she hadn't. Dear god, that man was terrifying.

Dracula rounded on her, leaving the other vampire to weakly stand back up. Cheshire looked at the oncoming storm with wide eyes, and staggered backwards away from the lord of the castle. Dracula was too fast for her - and where was she _really_ going to run to? He grabbed her by the neck and suddenly she was slammed against the wall. Her head was still reeling from the impact as he spoke.

"You used your powers," he snarled.

"It was a life threatening situation," she said quietly. "Just not mine…?" she added, confused at his anger.

"Why did you spare his life?!" he demanded.

"I don't - I don't know - he was suffering, I couldn't watch him-" she stammered.

"You are lying!" Dracula snapped. "You are a defiant, foolish creature, and you showed _compassion_ to one who has shown you nothing but _contempt_. Either you have another motive, or you are a fool!"

"I don't know!" she half-yelled back, panicking. Her hands were at his wrist, trying to keep him from crushing her throat. It was a useless but reflexive action. "I really don't know why, please-"

"_Tell me!_" Dracula snarled into her face.

Cheshire was shaking - her eyes wide in fear. "I couldn't let him die - I couldn't let him die knowing I could have done something, I can't-"

"Your desperate _need_ to not add another name to your list includes us, then, does it?" he mocked her. "You came here to kill me, to end my reign of terror, to clean this world of vampires and darkness and yet you lack the _conviction_ to let one vampire die?! You are pathetic. Your crippling self-righteousness will lead to your death, girl."

"Would you have me let him die?" she asked, angry now at his mocking tone.

"It would have been the logical choice."

"That is where we're different, then." She narrowed her mismatched eyes at him. "I don't think mercy is ever illogical."

"Child," he growled as he let her go, storming away from him. "We will see about that." He disappeared in a whirl of mist and bats - the swarm flying up over the top of the courtyard, and rounded a turret and out of sight.

Cheshire slid to the ground, feeling the overwhelming need to sit down. Her hands were still shaking. When was he going to stop being so damn horrifying?

She looked up at Zadock where he stood, now holding his chest with one hands. He was pale, still gaunt, and looked much the worse for wear. He met eyes with her, and then he too vanished in an explosion of mist.

Cheshire sighed and shut her eyes, laying her head back against the stone. "I should have just let the asshole die."

**Why didn't you?!**

Her eyes flew open, and she yelped, startled at the giant shadow in front of her. Linger had come up through the floor, his glowing red right eye narrowed at her. She felt.. threatened by him for the first time.

Cheshire pulled her knees up to herself and stood. "I don't know, you heard all that I'm sure. I just couldn't let him suffer."

**He deserves to suffer. He deserves to **_**die.**_

"I'm sure he does, but I don't want to be a part of that," she tried to sidestep the shadow to walk away from him, but he wasn't having any of it. Linger's large and disembodied hand slammed into the stone, stopping her progress. She pulled up short, and looked up at the shadow. "Are you going to hurt me?"

**No. Not you. **The eye suddenly changed, no longer angry but… sad. **We were going to kill him for you, and then you saved him. Do you not want him dead..? We're very confused...**

"I want to be free of here, that's all." Cheshire blinked. "Wait. Who's 'we?'"

Linger blinked. **Dunno. Who are we? What did I say?**

"You kept using 'we.' Who is 'we?' Do you mean your other half…?" she asked him, looking up at him curiously now.

**We… wait… I… we… I DON'T KNOW! ** the shadow howled. Cheshire drew back against the wall again, afraid he was going to lash out. **He was hurting you! He was - so we- so I - I don't LIKE THIS. THIS ISN'T FAIR. **

"Linger, please calm down…"

**Cupcake, what's going on..? It's like there are rats in my head and they're all going chittery chittery chittery and I'm like STOP IT and they won't… And then that **_**stupid VAMPIRE and I want him dead, we have to kill him so we can be whole again… **_**WHO'S TALKING?! **Linger lowered his head, and half-sunk to the ground, curling his long… tail, or whatever it was, under himself.

Cheshire reached out, and tried to put her hands on the shadow. She felt the dark, ratted fabric under her hands as she put her palms against the wraith's shoulders. He was about twice her size - it felt awkward at best. "Oh, Linger… please, look… listen to me when I explain this to you. You aren't… supposed to be like this. You didn't used to be this way. You were once a warlock - a man. He died, and you're his power - as far as I can figure."

**So thas why I dunno whuts going on…**

"I guess so… Look, Linger, I'm sorry… I just didn't- I can't deal with suffering, I had to help him, I couldn't just walk away."

**So next time, we'll just make sure there's nothing left… **The way he said it made Cheshire withdraw, putting her back to the stone again. Linger raised himself up, the one glowing eye now a large flickering circle, the glowing jack-o-lantern mouth now twisted into an evil grin. **That's what we'll do… make sure there's **_**nothing left. **_**But we already drew too much attention… we'll have to wait.. But we're **_**patient. Patient as can be… **_**Tah tah for now, sweetheart!**

Linger abruptly disappeared through the wall beside her - and Cheshire stood in shocked silence as she tried to piece together what had just happened. Whatever it was, it couldn't be any good at all.


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks all for the wonderful reviews! I'm going to try and get a new chapter out at least once a week - my job is pretty consuming and I don't really have much time to write during the weekdays. **

* * *

"No," she tried to struggle, but he grabbed her arms and twisted them behind her back, gripping her wrists in one hand. He pushed, and shoved her down face-first onto the wood. She could feel him grind himself into her through her night dress, and could hear the low groan from his throat.

"I don't believe you," Zadock chuckled, and pulled up the edge of her nightdress, running his hand up her thigh. "I think you enjoy this…"

His body was warm against hers. He shouldn't be warm, he was a vampire - but this was a dream, maybe her mind was making him whatever it wanted him to be. No - not possible. Something was wrong.

"Maybe you'd prefer one of the castle's demons then? Should I go fetch one for you? I'm sure they would love to sate their lust on your little mortal body - they'd ruin you, they _are monsters_ after all - but… you'd enjoy that too, I'm sure.." his hand ran up to the top of her thigh, pushing her nightdress up over her hips. She wore underwear to bed that night, thank god. He ran his hand along her ass, and ran his sharp nails against her skin, which caused her to jolt. She tried to buck up against him, tried to throw him off, but he pushed down on her wrists harder, reminding her how trapped she was.

"Stop! This is a dream!"

"Does it really matter?" he asked whimsically, running one of his claws underneath the band of her underwear, his sharp nails digging into her skin.

"Get off of me - are you another incubus?! Get off!" Cheshire thrashed again, but 'Zadock' only laughed, and rolled his hips against her - digging himself deeper against her as she struggled.

"No, I am no incubus. Just your sick, _perverted_ mind, acting out your fantasy." He grabbed a handful of her backside and squeezed - his sharp nails digging harder into her skin so hard she thought she might bleed. She tried to kick him - but he only laughed again, a cruel, malicious laugh.

"You're lying - who are you?!"

"You saved my life, didn't you..? Don't you want this? I could have died, been out of your _hair_ but no… you saved me. Why, because you wanted this?" the vampire ran his hand up her back and grabbed her by the straps of her night dress, and yanked - tearing the straps clean in half. She shrieked as he suddenly stepped backwards, yanking her up by her wrists - still trapped behind her back - and whirling her around, half-threw her towards the bed. She staggered, and with one hand caught her fall by grabbing the post of the bed, and with the other, grabbed her night dress, keeping it from slipping down her chest. "Answer me!" he shouted.

She whirled to face him, but it was too late - he was already on top of her. He grabbed her by the shoulders and shoved - throwing her back onto the bed. She threw her arms out to stop her fall, and as soon as she had, he had her wrists in his hands, and had her pinned to the bed. He straddled her, thrust her wrists up over her head and pinned them with one hand, and grinned viciously down at her.

"Get off of me!" she shouted back at him.

"You're so _repetitive…_" Zadock sighed, annoyed. "Answer my question - did you spare my life because you want me?" he grinned down at her, and lowered himself closer to her - sliding down her body, but keeping her legs trapped between his. "Do say yes, it would be _so _much fun…"

"I spared your life because I would have spared _anybody's life,_" she spat. "Now who are you?! You aren't Zadock and you _aren't _in my head," she narrowed her eyes up at the vampire. He was still grinning down at her, a vicious, predatory smile that she recognized. But this wasn't her dream anymore - this thing had control of it. Things started to click together, piece by piece. "Only two people have invaded my dreams here. An incubus, and the ghost of a warlock. Which one are you?"

He lowered himself down closer to her ear, sliding even further down her body. He was propped up on the elbow of the hand that held her wrists in his hand. His other hand was now wandering slowly up her side. He was gathering the fabric of her night dress in his hand - pulling down the hem of her torn dress bit by bit, fiber by fiber. Zadock leaned his head into her neck, and what she felt was not the lips of the vampire but - the press of something cool and smooth against her cheek.

"I should have known better than to think to fool you, but… I was angry. I was so horribly furious… I needed to hear your answer myself…"

The frame on top of her had changed. The hand holding her wrists was now gloved - the body on top of hers was wider at the shoulders and fuller in frame than Zadock. She twisted her head and saw not the red hair of the vampire - but blond hair in a ponytail. "Linger, what are you doing..?"

"Venting my anger," he said quietly, and lifted his masked head, his black, empty left eye of the mask looming down at her. "I did not know I was still capable of such things." He tilted his head to the side and ran his other gloved hand up over her chest, to where the edge of the neckline had threatened to pull free of the swell of her breasts. He ran his gloved hand slowly along the exposed skin of her chest. He tilted his head to the side - and she couldn't read anything from him - not excitement, confusion, fascination, anger, nothing - his body language was unreadable, and with the mask and the vacant eye - he really was a ghost - mostly vacant. "More than just anger, it seems…"

"You attacked me." She narrowed her eyes up at him angrily.

"I did," he responded hollowly. He ran his thumb slowly along her collarbone, almost thoughtfully. "Why did you spare his life?"

"Compassion," Cheshire answered, still glaring at him. "Compassion for another person in their suffering, that's all. I made the choice not to let someone die if I could help it. Is that wrong?"

"You have compassion even for an unliving thing like him?" Linger turned his head to the side, and said, as an aside to himself. "Hm, says the kettle…" That was the first flicker of personality she had seen from the ghost - this dead warlock. He looked back to her, or - at least she assumed he did, by the small movement of his head. His hand that kept her pinned down lifted, freeing her arms, and he placed his glove palm to her cheek. "I acted wrongly in anger… Forgive me…"

"But why did you… why did you want him dead anyway?"

"Because of his plans to _use_ you. Because of the way he _laid his hands on you…_ I needed to stop him. And so, I did… and so, you saved him. I was angry. I was… confused. I blamed you for your compassion..." There was confusion in his voice, and a deep sorrow.

Pulling her dress back up her chest, she slid far enough out from under him that she could sit up, one hand propping her up the other holding the fabric to her chest. His face was near hers now but - the white vacant mask was not as unnerving as it once was. He lowered his head, and put his black-gloved hand to his forehead. His shoulders were hunched, and he looked so… distraught. She had never seen this level of emotion out of him before - _any_ emotion.

"Linger…" she said quietly, not sure what she was trying to communicate.

"That isn't my name," he replied quietly.

"I know… I… don't know your real name."

"Neither do I." Cheshire cringed at the pain in his voice. He stayed there, still straddling her legs, now sitting back on his heels with his hand to his head. "I'm sorry… Help me," he said, barely above a whisper. "Save me…"

"I don't know how," she responded.

"My name…. start with my name. Maybe that will help me," he said weakly. "I must go. Please, Cheshire, forgive me, I never would have harmed you…"

"I know," she said with a small sigh. "I'll forgive you if you swear not to attack me again."

He nodded his head once, and stood up from the bed. She noted, randomly, that his clothes were different than what she saw him in before - he looked now more victorian than turn of the century. She wondered what that portended to, as he, and her dream, dissolved into nothingness.

* * *

She really had to talk to someone in this castle about their clothing choices for her. She stared at herself in the mirror - she looked like she was going to a Halloween party dressed as herself. She couldn't find any normal pants again - this time all she could find were _leather pants. _Honest-to-god _leather pants._ She felt like an idiot, especially now that the pants coupled with the poor excuse for a tank top she found and a "jacket" that at least had pockets. She sighed.

A Halloween party or a death metal concert, she wasn't quite sure. I mean, it looked cool, but… she was starting to blend in with the clothing choices of her 'inmates' or wardens in the castle, and she wasn't sure how she felt about that.

But, better than a dress. She had exploring to do. Slipping her note pad and pencil into her pocket, she walked out of her 'chambers' and into the hallway. Looking left, and right, there was no one around. Hell, she was shocked she woke up alone. No Linger, no Zadock, no disturbances.

She spent an hour in her room that morning just... debating. Cheshire was still upset with Linger over what he had done - he had attacked her. He had asked for forgiveness, and she had given it to him - but he was violent. _What do you expect? He's a warlock - he's not a good man. Lyon said as much._ But he was her only chance out of here. Or was she just picking her prison? But… Linger seemed to… care. As much as a dead warlock _could_ care. And she supposed he was right to be angry and confused about her saving Zadock. She was too.

So, she decided. She would do what she could to save the warlock. He had suggested she try and find his name - easier said than done. She could ask Lyon, Zadock, or anyone else - but… that was dangerous. They'd probably suspect something was up, why would she be asking?

That left finding it on her own. And with no idea where to start. Rounding a corner down the hallway, she came on a doorway - the main door that lead out of the hallway that attached to her chambers. She put her hand on the doorknob, and asked for help from the one thing she thought she could ask.

The castle itself.

Shutting her eyes, she reached out to its consciousness - that riptide just below the frozen surface, the constant hum of the building itself. It was like walking out onto a frozen river and seeing the water rushing beneath you. She could touch the ice - putting her hand in the water itself was dangerous. So, she didn't try. She just hoped she had its attention. "I need your help," she began. "I want to find the warlock's name. Please take me somewhere I can find it."

Cheshire took the doorknob in her hand and opened the ornate wooden entryway - expecting a library, or nothing at all. Nope. No such luck. This doorway had no business connected to what she saw beyond - it made no physical sense. But nothing here did. She looked down the darkened, subterranean passageway that was jarringly out of place next to the luxurious antiquity of the hallway and she let out a sigh.

Catacombs.

Skulls and bones, pieces of people made up the structures of the walls - she had seen photos like this of the catacombs beneath Paris. Everything - the archways, keystones, walls, shelves, all of it - carefully made out of human remains. Torches dotted the walls, few and far between - but enough to cast flickering shadows over the vacant sockets and curved cheekbones of the walls.

Well. She asked. Can't be ungrateful now. "Thanks," she muttered.

Stepping out into the darkness she let the door shut behind her, and with the click of the large wooden structure, she was abruptly in the darkness and the… silence. The only noise was the quiet rushing of the burning torches. She walked up to the closest one, lifted it from its metal ring, and held it over her head as she started to walk down the hallway. She was here, no point in turning back now.

It occurred to her how helpless she was right now. Here she was, in the depths of a catacomb that was who-knows-how-big, filled with who-knows-what-monsters, and she didn't dare risk use her power to save herself if she ran into trouble. Not with Dracula watching.

She just hoped she could find her way back out again. She tried to keep her footfalls as quiet as possible to keep from alerting… anything. She kept herself constantly on alert for any presence of a mind - of anyone near her that might pose a threat. Cheshire wasn't even sure exactly what she was looking for - only that the castle brought her here.

She rounded a corner - and more catacombs lay out before her. As she walked, the path had small rooms on either side - little nooks with table-top tombs, or pedestals with corpses laid out on them, or coffins. Maybe the warlock was interred here…?

How on earth was she supposed to find one corpse in a catacomb containing…. likely thousands.

Cheshire felt presences here, as she walked by. Bits and pieces, flashes of consciousness and emotions, but nothing solid. Nothing real. Ghosts. One of the odd side-effects of her power was that she could sense a consciousness… any consciousness. Even the dead ones. Some ghosts weren't rational - they were flashes of emotion and memory. But some had moments of lucidity. This place, and it was no shock to her, was haunted.

"The living do not come here," said a voice from behind her. The voice appeared at the same time she sensed a presence. Turning - there was a vaporous form, a… transparent person. A ghost of a woman, her dress dating from some far-gone century. She looked at her with a hollowness that she recognized from Linger's ghost - an emptiness that was reflected in the empty sockets of her eyes.

"I… uh… I'm looking for someone," Cheshire replied. The ghost didn't scare her - not after what she had seen here.

"We know," the spirit replied, her voice a whisper, but still audible in the silent hallways.

"How?"

"The castle spoke to us. You have learned it listens… but you have not learned it speaks. We are within its walls - we are one. It brought you here."

"Can you take me to him?"

"No. We cannot go near him."

"... Why?"

"He will feed on us. Like he feeds from you. He grows in strength the longer he is near you… You must know that."

Cheshire paused. She had noticed that the ghost was growing stronger - but… she remembered him mentioning that 'her strength' allowed him to appear to her in that mirror that day. "I don't think it's harmful, not yet anyway," she said quietly. "Everything here feeds on the living."

"That is true," the ghost conceded. "And you are strong. You could bring him back. That is also why we will not bring you to him."

"You have a beef with-" Cheshire sighed, and corrected herself. The ghost wouldn't know what that meant. "You have a vendetta against the warlock?"

"He uses us for his power… When he beckons, we must answer…"

Cheshire shook her head. So _that_ is why the warlock wanted to take control of the castle. Talk about a never-ending supply of power. What better place to use to control souls than a place that not only trapped the souls of the living - but seemed to give birth to the souls of the damned?

"Then why is the castle helping me?"

"The castle does not fear him. We do."

"That doesn't answer my question," Cheshire insisted. "Why is the castle helping me?"

The woman tilted her head back slightly, seemingly accentuating the emptiness of her eyes. "You belong here."

And with that, she faded into nothing - and Cheshire felt the consciousness that she was speaking to fade as well. Cheshire let out a long sigh. Great. She felt more confused now than before the ghost showed up. And even the ghosts of the dead thought she belonged in the castle. Shaking her head, she turned to keep walking.

And screamed.

Her scream was met by a throaty laugh - the last thing Cheshire expected had been standing very close behind her. A man - a grotesque, doubled-over, hunch-backed man had loomed up behind her while she was distracted. He was grinning a toothless, lopsided smile, clearly pleased with himself. He carried a lantern in one deformed hand.

"Jesus Christ," Cheshire exclaimed, having nearly dropped the torch in her fear.

"Not quite, not quite!" the man laughed.

She waited to see if he was going to attack her, but he was just staring at her with that grin on his face . Cheshire waited a beat, not sure what to say. "Hi," she started. Seemed as good a place as any. "You startled me."

"Bahaha!" he laughed again. "I'd say I did! I don't often hear voices down here, no… not the voices of the living anyway." The man sniffed, and narrowed one of his bulging eyes up at her.

"I'm looking for someone," Cheshire responded. "A warlock."

"I know, I know," he chuckled. "I heard ya. I'd say you got lost, if I didn't hear yer conversation with the spook." He turned and started walking back into the darkness of the skull-lined hallways. She waited, not sure if she was meant to follow or…

"Come on now, don't dawdle," he called back after her.

She followed the hunchbacked man as he shuffled amongst the corpses. "What's your name?" she asked.

"Huhn?" he looked back over his shoulder. "Nobody's ever asked. All these years, countless 'heroes', and here I am, and nobody ever asks," he complained.

"I'm asking," she said with a smirk.

"And that's why I know you're no hero!" he laughed again. "Any other living person woulda swung that torch straight for my head - but no, you say hello."

"Didn't know what else to say," she confessed with a small shrug. "My name is Cheshire, by the way."

"I know who you are," the hunchback said with a laugh. "We all know who you are - every single stinking one of us."

"How..?" she asked nervously.

"How do you think! We're one big castle of monsters and the damned, girl - we don't get many new faces. Somebody shows up and Dracula makes for adding them to the 'payroll' and we take notice." he paused. "And the castle won't shut up about you."

"I don't know how I feel about that to be honest," she responded quietly. "I don't belong here."

"Don't know who you're tryin' to convince, hun. Me, or you?" He looked back at her with a broad grin on his deformed face. "What, we're not 'good' enough for ya?" he laughed again.

"I…" she started, and trailed off. "I'm not trying to insult you, I just…"

"You got manners, girl. You're polite. I like that," he kept shuffling, and turned another corner. Cheshire wondered if it was a trap, but… she was already trapped, what was the point in not following him. She didn't stand a chance of finding the warlock on her own.

"Is that why you're helping me?"

"I'm also _really_ bored," the hunchback snickered. "We're all curious to see how your little drama plays out."

"Oh good," she responded sarcastically.

The hunchback laughed again, and turned another corner. "You don't know anything about this so-called 'man' you're trying to save, do ya."

"How do you know I'm-"

"I'm not dumb, girl. You come down here, lookin' for the warlock's corpse, what else could you be trying to do? But I won't say nothin'. Neither will the castle. Some of us serve Dracula. Some of us serve the castle."

"Dracula is the master of the castle, isn't he?"

"For now," the hunchback shrugged. "He isn't always. Sometimes he goes off and gets himself killed for a few centuries, and we make do. Somebody always steps up. We were here before Dracula. Then, there was Walter Bernhard, and that… little.. white-haired twerp, whatever his name was…"

"Huh," Cheshire said quietly as she followed him. "What can you tell me about the warlock, then?"

"Did you ever think ya might be going from the pot into the fire, girl? He ain't some knight in shining armor. He ain't going to whisk you away into the sunset."

"I know that, I'm not naive," Cheshire replied. "I might just be picking my prison."

"That's all any of us ever get to do," the hunchback replied sadly. "If we're lucky. Most people don't get the chance to chose." They came to a crossroads, and he lifted his lantern, looked left, right, made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat and took a left.

"Did you know the warlock when he was alive?"

"We all did. He almost killed Dracula, y'know. Would have, too, if Dracula hadn't cheated and fought dirty. The warlock is a 'gentleman,' I'll give him that. Thought it'd be a fair fight. Nope," the hunchback laughed. "You've met the warlock's power, haven't you?"

"Yeah," she replied, and the hunchback laughed at the weight that she said it with.

"That things only been growing. Feeding on the castle, getting more powerful. You stick those two back together again, and this whole place is going to get turned upside down," he said with another laugh, and then added, "Although I hope not literally… that was a weird week."

Cheshire shook her head, and didn't even bother asking. "Well, what are my options? Try to commit suicide," she started.

"Dracula wouldn't let you," the hunchback interjected.

"Right, so, that's out. There's 'give in and swear allegiance to Dracula,' which also involves probably giving in to Zadock which…" Cheshire shuddered. "I'd rather not." The hunchback snorted in his throat in response. "I can continue to fight and try to escape on my own, which won't happen, and I'll either break down eventually or go insane. The third option, is… hope the warlock isn't lying to me."

"You've spoken to him?"

"What's left of him," Cheshire said with a shake of her head. "He doesn't remember much. Not even his own name…"

"And that's why you're here - to help him remember," the hunchback turned his head to look back at her. "You might actually pull this off, huh."

"I don't wish any harm on anyone - I don't… I don't even think I wish Dracula or the others any harm, I just… want to be free. I don't want to be a prisoner here," she said thoughtfully, not sure why she was suddenly confessing all this to the hunchback.

"This doesn't have to be a prison, girl. This could be your home, y'know. That's the difference between the things here that suffer and the things here that don't. The castle dotes on you already, it already thinks of you as one of us. You just gotta come around and accept that."

"I can't go down the dark path again, I can't," she shook her head. "I just… I've been there, I've murdered so many people… I just… I can't become that person again," Cheshire unwittingly had grabbed hold of the necklace she wore - the symbol of the Brotherhood, of the holy Order.

"You might not get the chance to chose," the hunchback stopped walking, and turned to look to his right, lifting his lantern as he peered into the darkness. "You just get to pick how much is left of you when you get to the other end of that path."

"He said pretty much the same thing - the warlock did," Cheshire stopped walking as well, turning to look into the crypt that they had stopped at. A coffin lay on top of a pedestal, but she couldn't make out much else than that. It looked… fairly ornate.

"He knew that first hand… what happens when you walk the dark path," the hunchback said forebodingly. "You either lose yourself in the process or you accept it and let it happen."

"Is this him..?"

The hunchback nodded once. "When you're done, you just gotta take a right out of here - and let the castle know you want to go back. It'll help you find your way out."

"Thanks for helping me," she looked down at the hunchback and smiled.

He looked back up at her and gave her a smile as well. "Hope you decide to stay here, girl, you're fun to have around. And it's nice to see someone with manners." He turned and began to walk away.

"You never did tell me your name," she called after him.

"Hhn?" he paused. "Richard. It's Richard."

And with that, the hunchback was gone. Cheshire sighed, her mind still dwelling on everything that he had said. It was a lot to think about - between her intentions on freeing the warlock, or her stay here in the castle… And the fact that the castle was fond of her. That itself was unnerving. Flattering, but unnerving.

But the more she wandered, the more she met people like Richard, or Lyon - creatures with… souls. Creatures that she was positive were evil - things that murdered and destroyed human lives - but… She found herself liking some of them. Like Shalak - they were capable of friendship, of compassion themselves. Who was she to say they were all wrong - all worth destroying? She had betrayed her friends to keep Shane from killing Shalak that night, and it had cost her her freedom. But it might have saved her life, she observed. Cheshire shook her head - it was all too much. All too confusing.

Walking in to the crypt, she walked up to the coffin and raised the torch - it was metal - solid iron, inlaid in silver that was now badly tarnished. She remembered something of what the Order had taught her - something about iron and silver being used to bind magic. It made sense.

There was no name, no marker that she could see. Wandering around the pedestal a few times, she couldn't find anything. A thought occurred to her, and she cringed. Damn it all. "You're going to make me go in there, aren't you," she said to no one in particular.

Blanching at the idea, she took a moment to steel herself. She was surrounded by corpses - had been all afternoon. What was the big deal? _Because you kind of know this one. _She turned about, and found a rung in the wall to put the torch in, and turned her attention back to the metal coffin.

Walking to the side, she undid the latches holding the lid down, took a breath - and heaved. The lid was heavy, and stuck shut - but with another shove, she finally managed to get her fingers under the lip of the lid and wrench it open.

She looked down at the corpse, and let out a breath she was holding. She half expected it to leap out at her - or for it to be filled with rats, or something. It always interested her how very different corpses looked in real life from the movies. The warlock in the casket had been there for some time - and the tendons that held the bones together were long since eaten away. The skeletal remains held together in bits and pieces, but the jaw had fallen loose and there was little left of anything that resembled skin. Bits of blond hair identified him to her - and the ratted, eaten-away victorian clothing matched the set he wore in her dream the night before. It was him.

There was a gaping hole in his chest - one that looked like it had blown a hole straight through his spine. It was clearly the wound that killed him. Looking away from the rotted and decayed face she saw that the corpse was holding something to his chest - a book. When they buried him, they had folded under his gloved hands a book. It too was stained, and looked like the insects that had fed on his corpse had done a number on the book as well.

"I hope you don't mind I'm robbing your grave," she said to Linger - if he was listening. Reaching down, she gripped the edges of the book, and tried to slip it out of the hands of the corpse without damaging the remains. It slid out easily - thank God for small favors - and she brushed some of the dust and flaking bits of leather off of the binding.

Cheshire carefully opened the book - and found that many of the pages were stuck together. The first page that it opened to was… it looked like gibberish at first. Circles, diagrams, strange shapes and weird writing decorated the page, all in a careful and neat cursive script, handwritten from a fountain pen. She recognized what it was, if not specifically what it did - it was magic. Ceremonial magic. _He's a warlock, you idiot, of course he did magic,_ she scolded herself.

"Not sure how this helps me find your name, but… maybe it's your book, maybe you wrote this," she thought outloud, half-talking to the ghost of the warlock who was likely not even there. She tried to open it to the front page - but found it stuck to the cover. She'd need to pry the pages apart to learn anything and… this was probably not the place to do it. Taking it back to her 'chambers' was risky - but she didn't like being in the catacombs for longer than she needed to, and it was too dark to study the writing if she needed to.

She took off her jacket, and wrapped it around the book carefully - and shut the lid of the coffin, trying not to slam it as she lowered it back down. She retrieved the torch from the wall, and remembered what the hunchback Richard had said - take a right, and let the castle know where you wanted to go. It had worked before… might as well try it again.

"Uh," she said to the thin air. "I'd… like to go back to my rooms, please, if it's not too much trouble," she asked. "Thanks again for… for helping me," she smiled nervously - feeling very strange talking to the walls.

Taking a right, she walked down the corridor. The only way she could walk took her around another bend and… back to the same door she came through when she arrived in the catacombs. She shook her head as the castle miraculously broke the laws of physics to put a door where there was no business being a door.

Tucking her torch into the empty sconce she had taken it from, she opened the door, and saw the hallway that lead to her room. "Thanks," she said quietly and made her way back to her room, nervous she might bump into someone.

Luckily, the hallway was deserted as she quickly tucked back into her room. Scanning for any intruders - namely Zadock - she was happy to find herself alone. She went to a desk by one wall, and turned up the brightness on the oil lamp atop the mahogany surface. Placing the book down on the surface, she turned it around a few times - looking for any writing on the binding, but no luck.

She opened the book again, and experimentally tried to peel a few pages apart - and was mostly successful. She didn't dare rip any of the pages, nor did she dare try soaking them in water to try and free them up. The ink had run in a few places, and she was afraid that putting it in water would make the whole adventure useless. After gaining confidence peeling a few pages apart - which proved to be entirely the same kind of writing as before, spells and strange shapes in a language and writing that was foreign to her, she decided to try the first page.

Carefully turning to the front of the book, she began to gently pick at the corner, and bit by bit, she managed to slowly, carefully, un-peel the front page from the cover. The ink was almost destroyed - but if she held it up to the light, she could make out a name, scrawled carefully in immaculate handwriting. It was a style of writing that was impossible to reproduce - the painstaking and leisurely beauty of handwriting dating back a hundred or more years.

"William Eli Barker."


	13. Chapter 13

**Sorry this is a day late than what I had said I would try to keep - but it's a longer one and it took me a little while. :)**

* * *

"You are being summoned," the creature on the other side of her door said.

Fear rolled in her stomach again - she swore silently in her head to herself. Of _course_ he knew something was up. What kind of idiot was she to think that her little adventures weren't being watched?

"Okay, give me a moment," Cheshire said to the beast. It nodded and took a step back from her door. She shut it, and this time swore audibly, if under her breath. She went to the desk, and took the book - wrapped it up in a towel from the bathroom and panicked for a moment - trying to figure out where to hide it. Between the mattresses? No, someone changed her sheets for her. In the wardrobe? No, someone went through the clothes on a regular basis.

She went over to the dresser - and tucked it between the dresser and the wall, shoving it where you couldn't see it - wedging it carefully above the molding and between the wood of the furniture and the wallpaper. Hopefully no one would find it there. She brushed any dust or dirt off of her pants and ran a hairbrush quickly through her hair - hoping to not look like she had been wandering around a dusty catacomb all afternoon.

Doing a once-over in the full length mirror, she let out a breath, and tried to calm down. Maybe he didn't know. Maybe he wasn't going to decorate the walls with her intestines. Walking back to the door, she opened it, and hoped that the monster had gone… but no such luck. She stepped out of the room and shut it behind her, and smiled weakly at the monster who just grunted and turned to walk down the hallway.

So, dutifully, she followed. She realized she did that a lot here- just followed people who were leading her other places. The monster didn't want to talk, and so she had no problem taking the time to think.

William. She had his name now - William Eli Barker, the warlock. Linger. Her only hope out of this place - that is, if she could keep Dracula from finding out what she was planning to do. It was doubtful that if she brought the warlock back that William would want to just leave peacefully… She wasn't looking forward to that conversation.

'The castle dotes on you' - the hunchback had said. The ghost had told her that she belonged here. She didn't expect there to be so many warring factions - or at least cold-warring factions - inside the walls of the castle. The Brotherhood made it seem so simple - so cut-and-dry. Good people were good, bad people were bad. Bad people needed to suffer or die.

The world wasn't nearly so black and white. That was the main problem she had with the Brotherhood - the Order was always lecturing her about purity and simplicity of the universe. She was always one to see the grey areas of the world. That people weren't always so binary. That it wasn't always that easy to draw a line in the sand. Not that it ever stopped the Brotherhood from drawing the line - very clearly and very emphatically. It's why Shane had no problem abandoning her here, and why Yoseph had to follow him. Cheshire had betrayed their trust, and so, she deserved to be cast out.

But she didn't know what to make of these vampires. Lyon was a kind soul, she could tell… but who knew what he had done in his existence. He was ancient - the oldest thing she had met here - and in that time he had likely taken the lives of hundreds of people. Dracula still terrified her, but he hadn't been outright cruel to her. In fact, he had shown her hospitality. Zadock was… Zadock was cruel - or at least expressed some sick affection in the form of torment like a supernatural schoolyard bully with a crush - and he was violent to match the master of the castle.

But… They could be worse to her. Much worse. She was sure that most of the living people who wandered (or were abandoned) within the walls of the castle were not treated so well. She was useful to them - or interesting, at least - and so she warranted special treatment. It made her feel guilty, that somewhere in the castle people were likely being flayed alive - torn to bits, or worse - and here she was, living in relative - if not confusing - comfort.

Her thoughts were derailed as she was brought to a set of doors she didn't recognize - they weren't the throne room doors, these were smaller. The beast knocked on the door and swung it open - not waiting for a response, and gestured for her to walk inside.

Oh, how badly she wanted to turn and run. But no. She took a step into the room, and the beast half-slammed the door behind her, which made her jump. The room had hard wood floors - stained and oiled to a dark, amber honey color. A fireplace was burning against one wall, and bookcases lined the otherwise dark room. It was a study - and for a moment she couldn't see anyone else in the room - but she wasn't so lucky. Finally she saw the dark shadowy form of Dracula sitting, looking ever bored, in a red wingback chair near the fireplace. He was staring into the flames - his face locked in the dour, yet unreadable expression that seemed to be his default.

She stood there, silently, not knowing what to do, her heart lodged in her throat. He finally turned his attention to her - his glowing red eyes flickering in the firelight as he stared at her. He motioned his hand for her to come closer, but didn't speak.

God she wanted to run. Her feet barely followed her instructions as she forced herself to step forward. She stopped near him, hoping she was outside of his reach, but.. he was so much faster than her anyway, it was a pointless hope.

"I thought if we met somewhere less… grand, you would be less frightened. But I see by the look in your eyes I was mistaken."

"Sorry," she said quietly, her voice almost getting stuck in her throat.

"You have been exploring," he stated. It wasn't a question. Fear stuck her throat shut, and she could only bring herself to nod. "What do you think of my home…?"

"It's… unique," she responded quietly after a moment, finally finding the ability to use words again. "It's beautiful but… horrible at the same time."

"You have learned it is a creature unto itself," he observed. "It speaks to me of you. It has whispered to me of your place here since you set foot within its woods."

"I know… I can… I can feel it." Cheshire fidgeted with the silver bracer she wore - her leash to the vampire. She was terrified he was going to call her out on helping the warlock at any time. But for now, he was content to just sit there and stare a hole through her.

"It is the reason you still live."

Cheshire stared at the floor, now unable to meet his gaze. She felt like if he stared at her long enough, her secrets would be unwound just by eye contact. At least Dracula was unable to use his hypnotism on her. Cheshire hated not being able to use her powers - not being able to trick the vampire or get herself out of the situation she found herself. She never felt helpless so much in her life than she did here. "I know," she finally replied.

Dracula pushed himself up from his chair, and she almost staggered back away from him. He loomed over her - a giant black shadow, and she could feel his gaze still boring a hole into her. She wouldn't meet his eyes. He didn't advance on her, though - just stood and watched her. It seemed like minutes before he spoke, as he let her stand there in her panic.

"Why did you save Zadock? I know that he torments you. Unless you are lying to yourself and that his attentions are welcome, I do not understand your reasoning."

Cheshire shut her eyes, and let out a wavering breath. "It's not about the fact that it was Zadock. It was compassion. He was suffering. I couldn't walk away and let him die - if you, if Lyon, if Satan himself was in that situation I would stop and help. It's stupid, it's childish, I know, and I'm sorry it doesn't make any sense, but I-"

She stopped talking as he had placed a finger to her lips, silencing her. Her eyes flew open, startled at the contact, and she watched as he moved his hand away from her mouth. His red eyes bored into hers, and he felt him try and hypnotize her - but she forced him away easily. He could not control her mind any more than she could control his. He had observed it when they first met - they were mutually immune.

"Let me in to your mind," he issued as a quiet demand.

She shook her head no, her eyes wide with fear. He shifted his hand away from her face, his long, sharp-nailed fingers slowly running through her hair, the points of his nails barely grazing her scalp. He stepped towards her, and her hands flew to his chest - pointlessly trying to push him away.

His hand stayed at the back of her neck, tangled in her hair, and he leaned forwards, his other hand wrapping around her back slowly. She knew what he was going to do. Her body jolted as fear rushed down her spine, as her whole body lit up with adrenaline. She gripped the fabric of his coat with both hands, and tried to push backwards - but it was like fighting a moving piece of iron. He wasn't violent, in fact he was measured in his movements, like he was pointing out how inevitable it was. He leaned his head lower towards her shoulder - he was considerably taller than her - and he paused, hesitating by her ear.

"Let me in to your mind," he said, barely above a whisper.

"N… no, please," she begged, but it was useless. He did not give her another chance to voice her defiance. Dracula leaned his head down to her neck, and she cried out quietly in pain as his fangs punctured the flesh of her throat. Within moments, that horrible, deep, aching pleasure had rushed her body again and she moaned - the feeling throbbing in the same, slow tempo that he kept as he was feeding from her.

Her head swam - another small noise escaping the back of her throat as he answered her quiet cries with a deep, guttural _purring_ that seemed to come from deep in his chest. It was half a growl, half a pure, primal noise that reminded her in her dazed weakness that he was a predator, first and foremost.

She felt him withdraw from her neck, and she pulled in a shuddering breath as the throbbing pleasure slowly faded. She felt his tongue slowly run along the wound he had created - licking up the blood that had spilt. When he lifted his head to look down at her - only the barest bits of red touched his lips. When he spoke, his teeth were slightly reddened. "Now you have no choice. If you had allowed this to happen, you would have spared this from yourself…"

She went to speak, but he leaned down and scooped her up in his arms - her weight to him was nothing. The room spun as he lifted her, and she couldn't make much sense out of which end was up as he carried her to a cushioned bench against one wall and laid her down atop it, her shoulders against the armrest, half-reclined. He sat down in the space next to her, his dark form looming over hers.

Dracula planned to invade her mind in her weakened state - damn him. She squeezed her eyes tight, and turned her head away from him.

"Look at me," he commanded.

"No," she replied. Maybe she could force herself to pass out before he could go through with it. He grabbed her chin with his hand and wrenched her head back to face his - and before she could stop herself, she opened her eyes to look at him - afraid of another attack.

Her mismatched eyes met his red ones - and they seemed to glow from an unnatural source. She wanted to look closer - wanted to see why they seemed to illuminate that way - if they were reflecting the light from somewhere else, or if they really were like embers_._

Too late, she realized her mistake. Too late, she felt him in her mind. She was too weak to fight him - to slow to respond. She felt the tendrils of his power weave their way into her consciousness, and take hold. She tried to free herself from them, tried to shake off the vines of power that curled their way around her mind but… it was useless. "Stop," she begged.

"If only you understood that your path is already chosen. All you decide for yourself is how much of your sanity remains when you finally submit…" Dracula was reiterating the words she heard so often - from the warlock, from the denizens of the castle.

"Please, stop-" Cheshire weakly begged again. She placed both her hands against his chest, trying to push him away.

"Be still," he said, and she… felt his words in her core. Her hands obeyed before she could stop them, and she lowered them back down from his chest. So that's what it felt like to be hypnotised, she faintly noted.

"Why do you fear me?" Dracula asked quietly.

"You are the master of the castle," she responded, the words coming out unbidden. Her mind railed against his control, but it was useless. She was too weak from the blood loss to put up much of a fight.

"You do not fear the others the way you fear me - I ask again. Why do you fear me so?" His voice seemed to fill her mind - more and more, there was less in the room worth noticing save his red eyes and his deep voice. She was losing the battle quickly.

"You're the darkness that I gave in to so long ago… The thing I fought so hard to not become," she admitted, and she swore at herself in her mind, and tried to push him out. It was useless, his power was like a snake - the more she struggled, the tighter it became.

"That is not all," Dracula responded, and she found herself longing to hear him speak - as her mind slowly lost its strength to rally against his control. "If that were true, all there would be was righteous anger… In you, I see only fear, and an odd... respect… Why?"

She hesitated, and didn't answer - finding that she could not control the words coming from her mouth, but she might be able to slow them down, or stop them entirely. Cheshire managed to turn her head away. He reached up and cradled her head in his hand, his fingers on the back of her neck and his thumb against the side of her jawline. He tilted her head back towards him, and she met his gaze again - and that was it. That was all she had left in her. Her mind caved under his control.

"I fear giving in to the darkness… Because I want to, and because I know I will lose…"

Dracula responded with a thin twist of his lips into a small smile. "You belong here, in the castle. If you accept it, you will be the happier for it..."

"I know," she admitted.

"Then why do you defy me..?"

"I can't give in… I can't lose myself in the darkness again.."

Dracula slipped his hand away from her face, now that he had her fully under his power, and gently stroked back a piece of her dark hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "And why not? Because the Brotherhood of light taught you that you would burn in hell if you did?"

"No, I know I'm doomed to that already, with the lives I've taken… I just… I see their faces when I shut my eyes, the people I've killed… They taught me guilt for what I had done…" she felt hollow, like she was hearing someone else speaking.

"Some are meant to walk this path. I was chosen by God to be the dragon, to be what I am," Dracula's eyes narrowed, and his voice became a low growl, his anger at God, not her - at least she hoped. "And I _hate_ him for what he has done… and long ago I despised myself for the beast I am," he admitted. "And yet I persist. I could have chosen death, but I did not. In time, I came to understand and be at peace with my nature. We are what we are _meant_ to be… and you are _meant_ to be in the darkness with us."

"I know," she said again, and felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

"Do you hate what you are?"

"I do.."

Dracula lifted a hand and gently wiped away the tears from her eyes with a knuckle, and let out a quiet sigh. "You will drive yourself to madness if you fight your own nature. This place sings for you - sings that you have finally come home - this place of darkness, of death, of horror, calls you its own… Give in to what you are meant to become… And you will find peace. You do not fight _temptation,_ you fight your very soul..."

"I know," she whispered, repeating herself again. And it was true - stripped of the ability to say otherwise, to convince herself otherwise - she knew what he was saying was truth. She had always felt it - always knew that she might strive to be in the light, but she didn't belong...

"You spared the life of a man who torments you… Not once did you claim that you did so to spare my wrath. I do not believe this was to spare yourself more 'guilt.' Tell me why you spared him," he quietly demanded.

"I didn't want him to die…"

"Why?"

"This world would have lost some of its uniqueness if he were gone… This place is filled with beautiful, grotesque things, and… to see them gone would make the world a lesser place… I… couldn't be responsible for that."

The words came forth without her control - and she honestly wouldn't have been able to say them any other way. She wagered Dracula knew that. It was something she couldn't even admit to herself. That despite her distaste for Zadock himself - he deserved to live. He deserved a place in this world. He was horrid, cruel, and in his own, sick way - made the world more interesting. They all did. She thought of Shalak, Richard, of Lyon, of even Dracula himself… Or William - Linger - her ghostly warlock. They deserved to exist - they were capable of the same compassion, friendship, cruelty and _evil_ as the humans the Brotherhood sought to protect.

"The brotherhood was wrong," she finished.

She felt suddenly… very tired. Emotionally, physically - she felt her eyes close. Dracula's power again, she wondered. She felt his power slowly withdraw, felt her mind and her body slowly become her own again. All she wanted was to rest. She felt a hand gently stroke her hair, and that was the last thing she remembered before sleep took her.

* * *

Cheshire woke up to the same sensation - a hand gently stroking her hair. She let out a small 'mmfnf' noise in her throat.

"Sssh," gently urged a voice near her ear. Cheshire had no objections to listening, she was comfortable, warm, and the hand stroking her hair was soothing. "If you open your eyes, I will be gone," said the voice again.

She was starting to wake up, slowly around the edges - the voice was familiar. Not the growling baritone of Dracula, and lacking the sharp cruelty of Zadock. Her mind still slowly wandered towards answer as the hand stroked her hair.

"I am growing stronger, but not enough to stay for long..."

She reached out a hand towards the voice - and her hand found the fabric of a vest or shirt, and she felt the warmth of a body there behind it. Finally, it dawned on her. "Linger," she mumbled, still half-awake.

"No, I am William once again, thanks to you…" Her hand curled into the fabric of the vest, and it drew a small chuckle from William. "There is much to be done before I can return… and I will ask more of you yet, I fear… But you have done well. Be patient… Dracula begins to trust you will fall to him soon…"

Cheshire let out a small noise in her throat again - and she felt a gentle kiss be pressed to her temple. But Linger - William - wore a mask… Her mind tried to wrap itself around this thought. "I must go now.. We will speak soon, little dove.."

With that, she felt the presence near her leave. She opened her eyes - and her hand was curled into the fabric of the pillow next to her head. She blinked, and rubbed her eyes blearily - looking around the room, but she was alone.

Cheshire let out a small breath and pushed herself up to sitting. She felt like she could lay back down and sleep for hours. Rubbing her hand across her face, she finally made the decision to get up. She had no doubt that William had actually been there.

Pushing herself out of bed, she tottered a bit - her head was still a little fuzzy from what had happened earlier. Dracula had fed on her again, and… oh God, the things she had admitted. She felt the shame well up in her, and she sighed. There was no avoiding it now. At least he hadn't asked her anything about the warlock.

What she had said hadn't been lies - she just hadn't wanted to say them out loud, especially not the Prince of Darkness himself. She wandered to the bathroom, glad at least there was running water. She ran her hands under the cold water of the sink and splashed it onto her face, feeling herself come a bit more back to her senses.

Was it true? Did she really belong here? And if so… what then? What would that mean? The ghost had said to her that she had learned that the castle talks - but she had not learned how to listen. She wondered if she could learn to hear the castle itself… and if so, what would happen.

She shook her head, and went about getting changed. She needed to go for a walk - wanted to get out of the room she was in, if only to clear her head. This time, she found jeans - blessed normal _jeans -_ and managed to put together an outfit that was finally comfortable and not leather. Slinging on her boots, she left her room, and let her troubled thoughts distract her as she wandered.

Cheshire was used to the castle's ever-changing layout now, and it concerned her less that she might get lost. She wandered aimlessly for an hour, moving from hallway to hallway, watching the few monsters she found go about their daily business, she found herself in a horribly overgrown garden - or a greenhouse, it was hard to say. The ceiling was a mass of vines and twisted leaves and branches, and she found herself picking her way over roots and around shrubs.

It occurred to her she had been wandering this castle for days now - and not once had anything threatened her. She had seen plenty of monsters, of demons, but they all avoided her, followed her curiously, or went about her business. Some combination of her being 'marked' both by Dracula, and the castle itself. Great. She sighed. Picking her way over another root, she rounded a corner of the greenhouse and pulled up short.

The plant in front of her - she assumed it was a plant by its appearance - blocked the way. It loomed up over her, floor to ceiling, at least twenty-five feet tall. "How very Shop of Horrors," she muttered to herself. The plant had vines, and dangerous, oversized blooms of multiple colors and… spikes. "Or Jumanji," she snickered.

It was only when she looked closer - when she tried to make sense of the tangled mess of vines and branches - that she saw the deep red color that seemed permanently stained to its main trunk. The dark color ran to a pool of reddish-black liquid at its base. "Blood," she observed again to no one. She wrinkled her nose a bit at the thought. This thing… clearly fed on meat.

Cheshire shook her head, and started to leave - but again pulled up short as she heard someone coming. Two sets of someone, actually - she heard one large set of footsteps and one… scrambling set. She didn't dare try to hide or get too close to the vines in the wall lest she become the thing's next meal.

And besides, she had nowhere to go - she was in an alcove, apparently dedicated to this giant plant. Before she could finish debating her options, the figures rounded the corner. It was the large, burly, beastly looking man from the banquet the other night - Duncan, she remembered.

He had, gripped in one of his massive, paw-like hands, the scruff of the neck of a man. He was human by the look of him - and looked worse for wear. He was bleeding from a gash on his head, and he was gagged, his hands bound in front of him. The man's eyes were wide with fear, and he was struggling, but - to Duncan, it looked more like an annoyance than a hinderance.

"Oh," Duncan said as he saw her, and narrowed his eyes. "You're far from where you should be."

"Dracula gave me permission to explore the castle," she said quietly, her eyes darting between the hulking man and his captive. "I was wandering."

"Hrm," Duncan grunted, and started to drag the man towards the large plant. The plant, seemingly smelling the living man's blood, started to move - hissing and rustling as its vines began to unfurl.

"What are you doing…?" Cheshire asked nervously.

"Dinner," Duncan replied bluntly.

The man screamed through his gag, and began to struggle harder. With a swift backhand from Duncan, the man groaned and slumped to one knee.

"Wait- You're going to-"

"Look, girl," Duncan turned and glared at her. "You're the master's new pet. I get that. But you have to understand something. The things here _kill._ The things here _eat._ This is a world of predators and weaker predators. This _human_," he ground out with clear disdain, lifting the injured man up again by the back of the neck. "Is _sheep._"

Cheshire winced and clenched her fists - and had another decision in front of her. Stop him - which she could, easily - but alert Dracula in the process. Or… let this happen. She couldn't control the plant - it had no real consciousness - so she had to decide fast.

Duncan began dragging the man forward towards one of the plants outstretched, open flowers. It had begun oozing some sort of horrible, viscous liquid from the edges of its petals.

"But-" she began uselessly.

Duncan growled and turned to her again. "I have a job to do. Either stop me, or shut up."

"Duncan, you really need to learn your manners," spoke a female voice that came suddenly to her left. Cheshire jumped, startled, and whirled to see Elizabeth, the green-haired vampiress. "Oh, dear, I'm sorry. I forget you can't sense us approach like some," she smiled, and seemed… genuine in her apology.

"I… It's okay," Cheshire stammered uselessly, her attention going back to Duncan, still dragging the screaming man over a particularly large vine.

"This plant is one of a kind. A rare beauty… it needs human flesh to survive," Elizabeth observed. "It is well over seven hundred years old - and has been torn to pieces by 'heros' many times. And yet, it persists."

Cheshire began to fidget with the silver bracer at her wrist unconsciously, spinning it around as she frantically debated her choices.

"If it doesn't feed, it will die," Elizabeth prompted, clearly sensing her turmoil. "Sometimes, things must die for other things to live. Would you deny the _wolf_ its sheep?" Elizabeth called out 'wolf' pointedly at Duncan.

Duncan twisted his head around and glared at Elizabeth - and Cheshire couldn't figure out why for a moment until she realized what Elizabeth was saying - Oh. Duncan was a werewolf. That… made so much more sense.

"He isn't a sheep, he's a person," Cheshire muttered.

"And sheep have just as much personality and can be just as loving," Elizabeth shrugged. "I worked on a farm when I was a young mortal - I remembered how I would cry and cry when father would take the life of a cow I had raised from birth… And yet, we had to eat."

Even if she stopped them - Dracula would know, and would arrive to set things straight. It was pointless for her to try, it would only cause her more pain, and the man would still die.

"I can't watch this," Cheshire said, feeling sick to her stomach, and turned to leave.

"If it's any consolation," Elizabeth called after her. "The poison of the plant will dull the man's nerves. He will feel nothing as he's dissolved."

Cheshire groaned and shook her head. "You were helping until 'dissolved," she called over her shoulder, which just made the vampiress laugh in response.

Walking back the way she came, she felt no less troubled than when she began her adventure that day. In fact, now she could add 'physically ill' to her moral dilemma.

As she walked - her destination still unclear - she waffled between periods of self-righteous anger and hopeless sorrow. Her anger at Dracula for putting her in this situation - and the realization that her situation was hopeless. She had to choose literally between two evils - William, or Dracula. One was an unknown evil, the other was a terrifying - but at least _known_ \- evil.

Neither had been cruel to her, sans putting her in this position to begin with. Although… that wasn't completely true. There was a great deal about her current predicament that she didn't know. Who knows what Dracula had done to orchestrate this entire mess.

She found herself in… a music hall of some kind. Instruments lined the walls, and a large piano sat up against one wall. Cheshire smirked - it had been a long time since she had played. Since before the fire that killed her friends, in fact. Idly she wondered how much she remembered.

Back then, she had always played when she was upset or concerned - her friend John always used to give her crap for playing at all hours of the night - but, he would always come down and pick up a guitar to join her. '_If I can't convince you to shut up, I might as well make you sound better,'_ he had always teased. She remembered his lopsided, deranged grin and fiery red curly hair.

Hurt stung at her core, and she suddenly missed him. It only seemed to echo the confusion she was already in. Wandering to the piano, she poked a key - half expecting it to bite down on her like some monster in disguise. But, no, a single D flat rang out through the hall.

Sitting down, she put her fingers on the keys, and picked out a simple melody she remembered from back in the day.

John had been pyrokinetic - he was a gifted, if _utterly_ insane man - and delighted in the fiery destruction of people and property. When their home had been invaded, the attackers had gone for him first. He had fought back, and did so the only way he knew how - with fire. It was his flame that had destroyed their home and unknowingly killed the others. John had suffered several bullets to the head before he could put out the flames. Cheshire remembered finding him - remembered the way the firelight flickered and shone off of the blood that pooled about his head and matted his curly hair.

She remembered the rage as well - the pure, horrible, consuming _need_ to make those men suffer. To make them pay for taking away her friends. John and her had been inseparable - he was like a bigger brother to her, a bigger… somewhat dickish, insane brother, but family none the less. He scared people as badly as she did - and they bonded over that. He used to call her 'split pea' - something she never understood but was apparently some kind of a reference to her bicolored eyes.

Plinking out a tune, she began to hum along. It was a tune that John used to play to tease her. She didn't really know the guitar tabs so well on piano - but she knew the tune by heart and it didn't take her long to pick it out. "_Somebody stepped inside your soul…" _she sang quietly to herself. She didn't have a phenomenal voice, but she could hold a tune. "_Little by little they robbed and stole… Til somebody else was in control.." _

A chuckle formed in her throat, and she smiled sadly. He used to sing that to her - some half-decent song from some band she didn't remember - because he knew it ruffled her feathers. There was another song he sung, though, that came to mind.

It was a tango, some bizarre song from a band that John used to sing all the time. The band was about as twisted as he was - the songs were all about serial killers, people in love with serial killers, depravity, and who knows what else. The beginning verse was about a man who killed people and made furniture out of them - but it was the chorus that she wanted to hear. "_You're born what you're meant to be," _she sang quietly again. "_If you're bad, then be bad the best… If you're good stay away from me, I'm a bad influence on the best…"_ It was John's motto. He always said he made a better looking villain than a hero - so he set out to be the best damn bad guy he could be.

Back then, she didn't care. They were different - they were supernatural, above the law, and above normal people. So collateral damage was nameless, faceless people in the way of their next paycheck.

If only the Brotherhood had just killed her, it would have spared her all this pain.

She finished the quirky tango - and heard a single, slow round of applause from behind her. She turned her head - and saw Zadock sitting in a chair, one ankle propped up on the other knee, sitting casually in the chair.

"I'm not in the mood," Cheshire rolled her eyes at him. "Go away."

"Now, now," Zadock said, but it lacked the usual sarcasm. "I didn't come here to play."

"I don't believe you."

"Mm," Zadock looked off, thoughtfully. "I came to thank you for saving my life."

"You're… welcome. I guess. I didn't do it because I like you."

"I know," Zadock shrugged. "But that shadow would have killed me regardless. So, I owe you. I came to settle my debt. I don't enjoy owing favors."

"I don't want anything from you," Cheshire swiveled around on the bench to face him. "Except for you to leave me alone."

"But that would be so horridly dull. So I came to pay my debt in another way. Information. I will answer any question you have to ask."

Cheshire blinked, and watched him for a moment while she thought it over. He looked… dour. She had never seen him 'upset.' He had always been a grinning, sadistic thing - never the serious thing that sat in front of her.

"You're still pissed you got one-upped, aren't you," Cheshire said with a smirk.

"I understood about half of what you just said," Zadock shifted so he sat up taller. "But I will assume you are insulting my demeanor. I am simply taking this opportunity to afford you some respect for your actions."

"Mmmhm," Cheshire snickered. "You got owned."

"You speak so strangely sometimes," Zadock shook his head.

"It's because I'm from this time period, and you.. aren't. How old are you, anyway?"

"Mm, I served in the courts of Louis the thirteenth… So… three hundred and spare, I believe."

"Ooh, you're _French,_ that explains so much…"

"You're teasing me," Zadock sighed. "I come to thank you, and you tease me."

"You deserve it." Cheshire grinned. "You deserve that and more."

"Hrmfh," Zadock shook his head and crossed his arms elegantly over his chest. "You have yet to ask your question."

"I don't know that I have one," Cheshire shrugged.

"Oh come now, there is much you don't know…" He grinned, a bit of his previous mischief returning.

"Like what?" Cheshire raised an eyebrow.

"Mmm… How you came to be here, perhaps…"

Cheshire felt her nervousness return - the familiar tension building again. "Why do I fear I'd be happier not hearing your explanation."

"Perhaps I'll show you, then, rather than tell you." Zadock stood, ever gracefully. He walked towards her and held out his hand.

"I can stand on my own, thanks," Cheshire stood up, mostly to keep her distance from him.

"It is some distance and I would rather not walk," he said, clearly frustrated with her doginess.

"What exactly are you suggesting then..?" she raised an eyebrow.

"_Ma dieu,_" Zadock grumbled and grabbed her hand. Cheshire began to protest and yank her hand away - but she never got the chance.

Suddenly she… ceased to be. Or at least, that's the only way she could think of it. The ground underneath her dissolved. She felt the feeling of being… lifted - or - something - not exactly flying. The world around her went black the moment her feet left the ground, and the rest of it was a stomach-churning feeling of rushing movement.

After what felt like ten minutes of riding a rollercoaster in the dark, she felt her feet touch the ground again. She staggered forward with the perceived inertia, and felt a pair of arms go around her to steady her weight.

"Oh, be careful now," Zadock said quietly through a chuckle. "Let's not have you fall on your face."

Cheshire finally found her footing and shoved Zadock away from her, who only took a step back with another laugh. He was back to his smug self, smiling at her, proud of his antics.

"You're an asshole," she swore at him, the world still spinning around her head. "And what the hell was that?!"

"When you can travel as bats, why do anything so mundane as _walking?_" he said with another broad grin.

"You could have warned me," she growled.

"Where would the fun in that be?"

Cheshire managed to finally still her spinning head - the world finally gone back to the way it should be - not moving. She looked around, and they were standing by a set of doors… Her life seemed to be dictated by doorways lately. "Where are we?"

"Here to meet the person you can thank for being here with us."

"Explain," she shook her head. "What do you mean? I came here with the team from the Brotherhood to stop Dracula. Nobody was responsible for that… nobody from here."

"So you think," Zadock said and knocked on the door.

Cheshire felt the tension welled deep up in her as he opened the door and gestured for her to step inside. Half of her wanted to walk away - knew that what was waiting for her on the other side of that door was more trouble than anything else. The other half of her, the _dumber _half - propelled her through the door. What she saw made the world reel out from under her worse than the travel as bats. She leaned back up against the doorway - and her vision went hyper-real, hyper-sharp as adrenaline coursed through her.

"Well hello there, girl! You look like you've been doing well for yourself!" A familiar drawl came from a figure sitting at a table, eating. The figure stood, and walked towards her - and he still wore the pistols at each hip. He still wore the chain mail. He was the same as he was when he left.

All she could muster was to say his name - filled with all the shock, pain and horror that filled her.

"Yoseph…"


	14. Chapter 14

**Hi All! Sorry for the long delay - my work went into crunch and I ran out of time to work on the story. I do intend on finishing it, I promise. :)**

* * *

"You cock-sucking _son of a bitch!_"

Rage. It was a rare thing for Cheshire - she rarely felt pure _rage._ In fact, the amount of times it happened she could count on one hand. Anger - oh, anger came to her often. But not the blinding, horrible rage that her friend John used to speak of so often.

John was prone to 'fits' as he called them - bouts where he couldn't control his pyrokinesis. It always began the same way. Cheshire once had him talk her through it, as it was happening. She deeply regretted asking.

He began pacing around the living room, and began unbuttoning his shirt as he walked. "It starts with the shadows," he said as he paced, fidgeting with the sleeve of his shirt, struggling to get the cuff unbuttoned. "Darting shadows…"

John was insane. There was no way around it - he knew it, they all knew it. It was his insanity that gave him his gift - and his insanity that allowed him to control it. But it also is what caused him to lose his restraint from time to time.

"The shadows get closer, circle… start to circle me," he muttered, his head jerking to watch one of his phantoms. He was getting more and more anxious as he spoke. "Why won't you leave me _alone!" _he screamed at the invisible shades. Not long after that, he had to be half-dragged by the others down to the basement.

They had a room in the basement dedicated to John's 'fits' - three layers of steel thick, with air in between for insulation - where he could lose his mind and cause no damage. Well, no damage to the _house _anyway.

John never came out quite right. Shaking, sweating, and usually burned - he was immune to his own flame, but… not the hot steel walls. This time, John had rammed himself into the door in an attempt to escape the demons he saw and had badly burned his arm. Cheshire was helping wrap his wounds. His chest, arms, legs - even up the side of his neck - were covered in a spiderweb of burn scars. He was deeply self-conscious of them, but, she didn't care about them any more than he cared about her discolored eyes.

"It's the rage," John said quietly to the ceiling as she wrapped the gauze carefully around one of his new burns. "The rage bottles up. It's what I use to create my fire - all that hate, all that anger… and… sometimes it gets out of control and… And I need to get it out."

"Sssh," she had tried to keep him from talking - from exerting himself - but he kept talking regardless.

"When the hate comes over me… There's nothing else. Only the fire. The need to _destroy…_"

Cheshire never knew what John was talking about - until now.

She flew at Yoseph - the rage all-encompassing. Her leash to Dracula forgotten, she reached inside Zadock and Yoseph's minds - masking her location and creating a world in which she was about to make Yoseph suffer _dearly_ for his betrayal.

She knew she was out of control and that it was dangerous. But she didn't care. She heard Zadock make a noise as he gripped the walls for balance - the world had suddenly tilted and shifted around them. Yoseph lost his balance and toppled to the floor, startled. In the hate-twisted reality she had suddenly painted for them, the angles of the walls and floors suddenly made little sense, looking like a twisted nightmare.

"You _son of a bitch!" _she howled, and tackled Yoseph, not even sure what she was going to do when she had him. In her altered reality, she produced a knife and dug it deep into Yoseph's ribcage, twisting it between two of his ribs and digging it up into his lung. His face twisted in pain and he let out a sharp cry. The illusionary Cheshire only dug deeper, while the real Cheshire desperately wished the knife were real.

Yoseph gagged and coughed up blood in her altered reality - in the real world, his body was seizing in pain the same as in the illusion. His mind was convincing his body that he was dying, even though there was no damage to his physical body. She could feel his heart beat racing, and start sputtering in an odd rhythm, its last tango.

She heard Zadock laugh - she had expected him to attempt to pull her from Yoseph. But instead, he was cackling in laughter, leaning up against the wall with his arms folded in front of him. "Ah, I see! When _you_ decide someone needs killing, you suddenly have no moral objections!"

"Be _quiet!_" she snapped at the vampire. Zadock yelped and then let out a muffled cry as he reached for his mouth - which was now missing. In a panic, he began to claw at his face, useless trying to find the mouth that should be there.

Somewhere in her mind, she knew she had lost all control - she hadn't planned on doing that to the vampire. She only needed him to shut the hell up. The illusionary world tilted and veered again, and Zadock collapsed to the ground, still pawing at his missing mouth.

The real Cheshire walked to the nearby fireplace and grabbed the fire poker - it would do enough damage to satisfy her. Walking back to Yoseph where he lay, sputtering and gagging on illusionary blood, false knife buried deep in his lung, she raised the fire poker up over her head. She'd put an end to his betrayal.

She didn't make it far - she had just begun the down-stroke, ready to splatter Yoseph's grey matter across the floor when an explosion of black swarmed into the room - bats, she realized. Something picked her up off her feet, and her back slammed into the wall. A hand like a vice was closed around her throat, and she felt her mind sputter to a halt as the airflow was cut off.

A pair of red eyes were now glaring down at her.

Oh right. Him.

"Release them."

"Go to hell," she gasped out with what was left of the air in her lungs. If she held on to the illusion a little bit longer, Yoseph would be dead. That was all that mattered right now - feeding the _hate_ that had come over her.

The hand around her throat cinched tighter - and spots blinked in her vision. Dracula whacked her head against the wall - once, twice - and she couldn't hold on to her illusion any more. She heard Yoseph gasp from where he lay on the floor. His hands flew to his chest, groping for a knife that wasn't there.

Dracula released the grip on her throat, and Cheshire pulled in a shuddering breath as air rushed back into her lungs, slumping against the wall to keep herself standing. Narrowing his eyes at her, he seemed convinced there wouldn't be a second attempt and took a step aside.

Zadock was still grinning like the proverbial cat from where he stood, but there was a nervous flicker in his eyes. She had scared him when she lashed out with her power. He brushed himself off and stood up, quickly regaining his composure.

Yoseph was staggering to his feet- the pain of the illusionary wound would be fading quickly. He was doubled over, his hand rubbing his chest, and he began to laugh. It was a strange laugh for him though - shriller than she had ever heard before.

"You _bastard._ How long?!" Cheshire demanded, her voice shaking from anger and from Dracula having cut off her breathing.

Yoseph only laughed, and straightened up, letting his laughter trail off in a chuckle. The grin on his face wasn't one she recognized. He looked at her, his eyes shining with a strange… madness.

"How long?!" she demanded.

"How long _what?_"

"How long have you been lying?!"

"Since the beginning of time," he said with a smile. "I have to thank you! I haven't felt what it is to die in so very long. That was... exquisite. We should do it again sometime..."

"You lied to me.."

"This whole time," Yoseph said with a sadistic grin that seemed so foreign to his features.

Cheshire put her hands over her face, as the realization began to sink in. "You came to bring me to the Order that night… you tricked me into sparing your life, all to get me here?!"

"You're a bright little penny, you know that kiddo?" Yoseph said with a smirk. "I was always so proud of how quickly you can put things together. I've been masquerading as one of them for almost thirty years - well - in _this_ body anyway... This form only existed to get _you_… _here._"

Cheshire raised her head and glared a hole into the man she once trusted. "This 'form'?" She paused. "Who the hell are you?!"

"Finally a better question!" Yoseph cackled. It was a sharp-edged, maniacal cackle that she would have sworn was impossible to come from the old man. Suddenly his features began to… melt. To shift like it was a costume worn by some adept stage performer that was now revealing his true self.

Cheshire's eyes went wide at what she now saw before her.

Death.

What was now Yoseph was gone - and the floating torso of the skeleton hovered where the man once stood, his featureless skull perpetually grinning down at her. The voice that now came from the skull had changed - every once of the man she had thought of as her father was gone. The voice was sharp, cynical, and echoed. "Aaaah, so much better! I've spent _years_ trapped in that mortal cage… and what an awful ride it was - ungh, I do not envy you mortals and your arthritis."

"I trusted you," Cheshire said, shaking her head, still in disbelief. Maybe this was a lie. Maybe Yoseph was real - and this was a masquerade put on by Dracula because… because it had to be. But in her heart, she knew this was the truth. It all made too much sense. Dracula had said it himself, weeks ago: '_Queen of Lies, how you've been deceived.'_

"It was cute, I must admit," Death chuckled. "How you reluctantly looked up to me. I've never been able to play 'father figure' before, it was charming. Want to give me a hug, for old times sake?" Death held out his skeletal arms, mocking her.

"Don't make fun of me," Cheshire ground out between her teeth.

"I can do what I like, little girl!" Death laughed again. He began to speak but she cut him off. Dracula and Zadock seemed content for the moment to watch the scene play out. Cheshire felt anger rising in her again.

This hurt too much. The years of lies was too much for her to cope with. She needed him to stop talking. "Shut _the fuck_ up."

"Such language! Daddy should give you a _spanking. _Or should I let Zadock have the honors?" Death cackled again.

"Please, just stop," she begged now - she needed him to stop talking.

"I don't think I've seen you this upset since I splattered your friend John's brains all over the floor! Ah yes.. I was there too. Why not complete the pretty picture in your head?"

That was it. That was the last straw. The betrayal boiled over in her, and she needed it to end. Needed that voice to stop - needed them all to _go away._ She pressed her palms flat against the wall, shut her eyes - and screamed.

And reality _broke._

Cheshire had learned, long ago, never to control another's mind with her eyes closed - without the feedback of seeing what she was capable of doing. With her eyes shut, seeing neither the reality or the fiction, she grabbed hold of anything she could - anything that was within range, any unlucky mind - and did the equivalent of ramming it through a siphon. She heard Zadock and Death scream in pain - even heard what she might have thought was Dracula shout, but she was no longer paying attention.

She wanted them to feel it. _All of it. _ All feel the hurt that she did. Flashes of images crossed in front of her mind and was repeated to everyone within her grasp - flashes of pain, suffering, rage, sorrow, loneliness. Betrayal. She imagined the flames that John spoke of - the flames that came from within. She felt consumed by them - and knew if she went much longer she'd lose her sanity entirely. Cheshire had never gone this far down the 'rabbit hole' as John had called it - never let herself lose this much control. She didn't care. She was past caring.

She just wanted it to end.

There was no telling how long it lasted before she felt two hands on her shoulders - and a voice whisper in her ear.

'_Enough.'_

And then the darkness came.

* * *

_She's dangerous._

_If she wasn't, she wouldn't be here._

_If she wasn't, it wouldn't work._

_If she wasn't, she wouldn't be meant for us._

Shattered thoughts and shattered images flashed before him - like a dream, ever much like a dream. But more and more, he could grasp hold of what ran through his fingers like bits of sand. Here and there he could hold on to a fractured slice of what he had once been.

_She's too dangerous._

_So are we._

He clung to the broken, feverish parts of his mind that he could recollect. There was so much pain. It was like he cut his hands upon the shattered glass of his consciousness. The tighter he held, the more it hurt. But he was close… so close…

And soon, he would not be alone.

_She almost joined us… _

_She almost broke asunder…_

_But we held her together… Stopped her before it was too late._

_Might be too late anyway…_

_No. _

He struggled to remember her name - struggled to remember his own. He could see her face- feel the warmth of her body against his. Only in dreams. But soon, so soon, it would be real.

Broken flashes of memories, of sensations. Of things once so normal and common. Now, a fever dream. He heard the pain - _felt_ her pain in his his own soul… he knew what was happening. With a thought - with a gesture - he had silenced her.

Even in her dreams he silenced her screams. He wished he didn't have to… he wanted to hold her, to see her see _him. _But now she was nowhere he could reach, but better there than torn and shattered like he was.

_Who are we…?_

_Remember. _

_I remember._

_We remember._

_We are William._

_And she is ours._

* * *

She wasn't sure when she awoke. She wasn't sure if she had really ever been asleep. All she knew is that one moment, there was nothingness - a quiet, hollow darkness that overtook her - and now,she was sitting in a church pew, looking up at strange metal sculpture that resembled a cross.

Lyon's church, she remembered. This is where she met Lyon - right after she had been chased by the ravagers… and betrayed by Shane and Yoseph. Betrayed _again._ Or for the final time, it was hard to say.

"You have come around," stated a quiet voice from next to her.

Cheshire nearly leapt off the pew, startled - she hadn't realized that the ever-still statue of a vampire had been sitting next to her silently. She looked at him, and regretted she did - the world was a little tippy around the edges. "What happened…?"

"Ah, you can speak… Good," Lyon breathed a small sigh of relief. "We were concerned."

"What… what happened…?"

"You went catatonic, little one," Lyon replied quietly, turning his head to face her. There seemed to be.. worry there. Cheshire gritted her teeth and looked away. She wasn't ready for compassion yet.

"Did I kill anyone?" she asked after a long pause.

"No," Lyon replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Damn," she shot back bitterly. Cheshire pulled her knees up to her chest, and hugged around her legs, looking up at the stained glass window of an angel with white wings fighting an angel with blackened ones. "I was hoping I at least caused some collateral damage…"

"I did not say that. You merely asked if you had taken any lives." When Lyon didn't continue, she finally turned her head to look at him. His face, looking ever much like a statue carved from marble, had a look of deep concern on it. For whom, she couldn't say. "When I could find the faculty to move again, I found you in a catatonic state - along with several others. Most have not woken yet… Do you remember what happened?"

Cheshire shook her head. "I remember… Yoseph. I remember Death. I remember that he _lied_ to me… that this whole goddamn thing," she reached around her neck and grabbed the necklace of the Brotherhood and snapped it free, breaking the chain, glaring down at it like it was the cause of her problems. "The past seven years of my life have been a farce to get me _here._"

"Mmh," Lyon grunted quietly in his throat. "I warned them…"

"You knew?!" She snapped at him.

"We knew," Lyon sighed. "Please do not be angry with me. I have had nothing to do with the plot that was enacted to bring you to the castle. And if I had told you, you would have asserted that you did not believe me…"

That was probably more words she had ever heard spoken by the blond vampire end-to-end since she had met him. And she had to admit that he was right. She shut her eyes and rested her head against her knees. "I wanted them dead. I wanted them all dead in that moment… That is why I kept telling Dracula I can't give in… That's what happens if I do."

"You almost succeeded. And you almost destroyed yourself… But you stopped yourself just in time, before you tore your mind apart."

"I had nothing to do with that," Cheshire snorted, lifting her head, looking up at the cross again. "I was ready for madness. I was ready to be free, even if it meant losing my mind."

She jolted as Lyon suddenly stroked her hair back away from her face. "Do not wish for that… Here we have no shortage of those who have chosen that path and believe me, they are spared no pain for it…"

It clicked together in her head suddenly when he said that - of who had stopped her. She remembered now - the hands. The single voice that stopped her. It must have been 'Linger' - William - the warlock who had torn himself apart as she had just been ready to do.

She lowered her head again and let out a wavering sigh. "It's only fitting that my life is filled with lies…"

"I am sorry you suffer so greatly.. they have not been gentle to you," Lyon rested a hand on her back. She didn't pull away from him - he was honestly trying to comfort her, it seemed. Better him than Zadock, at least.

"How many people did I take out?" Cheshire asked curiously. She usually had a range of a hundred meters or so - so probably a dozen or-

"The entirety of the castle," Lyon replied quietly.

Her head shot up at that, and she looked at him in shock. "What?!"

"I was here when it occurred - it felt like molten metal pouring into my mind. I collapsed, and… it was some time before I could find the means to stand. From what I could discover, every sentient creature in the castle felt your wrath…"

Cheshire covered her mouth with her hand, agog. That wasn't possible. She didn't have that kind of reach. She shook her head, dumbfounded. Lyon smiled pitifully at her, and shook his head. "You forget… the Castle is all connected. You cried out in pain… and so did the castle as a whole…"

"Oh God," she muttered and shook her head. It didn't ever cross her mind that the castle _itself_ could be affected. "I never meant to.."

"I know… I am sure 'it' knows as well…" Lyon was now stroking her hair gently. "You had every cause and reason to lash out. But I am warning you… Dracula will not be pleased."

Fear gripped her stomach again for the first time since her outburst - that's right. The master of the castle. "Was he…?"

"Unconscious last I left him," Lyon said with a small smirk. "Through your connection to the Castle and I suspect his general proximity to you… his seeming immunity to you was not enough to spare him."

"Oh fuck…" she groaned and buried her head in her hands. "He's going to decorate the walls with me, isn't he…"

"I doubt he would go _that_ far," Lyon likely thought he was doing a great job at making her feel better. She didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. "You are more valuable alive than dead. But I would assume some manner of repercussion..."

"Oh God," she groaned into her hands.

"But for this moment, you are safe," she heard Lyon sigh again and felt him stroke her hair. "You showed me such compassion when we first met, little one… The same you showed to Zadock, to whom you should have held nothing but zealous hatred… I do not believe you would have acted in such a way without great cause. Dracula will recognise that - he does not show cruelty for its sake alone."

"This is the most I've ever heard you talk," Cheshire said with a small smirk, turning her head up to him - but she knew the worry was still plain on her face. "I'm touched."

He chuckled once, and the two fell into an amiable silence.

* * *

"She needs to _pay for this!_" Duncan howled at the shadowy figure sitting on the throne. "She assaulted us all - could have left us all vulnerable to attack, she needs to suffer! We should make an example out of it, have her flogged in the courtyard!" the werewolf snarled.

"Be still, _Brother,_" Elizabeth chided from nearby. "You were not insulted any more than any of the rest of us. You wounds are not so great."

Before Duncan could round on the green-haired vampiress, the master of the castle raised a single hand, silencing them both. "She will pay," Dracula responded, his dark voice resonating in the hall of the throne room. "But not to you."

Zadock chose to keep out of this argument - he had long since learned that with the Lord of Darkness, it was best to keep ones assertions to oneself. He also had a splitting migraine - and he suspected so did the master- making any arguments doubly foolish in front of the already perturbed vampire king.

"I summoned you here to assess the extent of the damage, not to hear your petty requests for repayment of the slight you have been dealt," Dracula growled. "Now that I see there is no lasting damage, you are dismissed."

Duncan opened his mouth to argue, but Elizabeth took his arm and yanked him around, wisely cutting off the werewolf's reply. "Thank you, Uncle," Elizabeth said with a curtsey and half-pushed half-pulled the disgruntled werewolf from the throne room.

"What do you think should be done?" Dracula asked the room. It took Zadock a second to realize that the master was talking to him.

"Hm? Ah… I would not think to counsel you on these matters," he replied as he took a step from the shadows. "Particularly not when we are both… not at our prime in the moment," he added, referring to his migraine.

"Tell me what you know of her plots to escape," Dracula, as usual, was not one to make idle chat.

"I am not sure, my lord. She has had conversations with the broken Warlock - and the shadow covets her like a prize. So he said when he attempted to end my life. Whether or not they conspire - or if it is even possible to conspire with the creature - I cannot say."

"But you are suspicious."

Zadock nodded once.

"Good. As am I," Dracula tapped one of his long-nailed fingers against the armrest of his throne. "His attack on you is sizable evidence. And now, I felt him intervene on her behalf… I could sense him. If the warlock does plan something… we will need to force him to play his hand."

"Sire, he is dead… what remains is just a cloud of insanity and power…"

"Here nothing is ever truly dead," Dracula replied, a strange undercurrent of irony in his voice.

Zadock simply nodded his head - it was impossible to argue with that statement. The warlock's return - if such a thing were even _possible - _would spell disaster for them all. And if Cheshire were caught up in it - he wondered if she even understood what would happen if that man were to walk amongst the living again. He narrowed his eyes thoughtfully - perhaps she could be convinced.

"We will draw him out. Bring her here," Dracula growled out. "Now."

* * *

For all her troubles, she liked Lyon, she decided. The ancient creature seemed… well-meaning. Where he didn't make sense to her, she wrote off to his age. 1800 years old will probably give you a particular outlook on certain issues, she figured.

He wasn't really that much of a conversationalist, though. They had just sat there in silence for… who knows how long. She didn't have a watch - and she couldn't hear the tower ring from inside the chapel walls.

She tried to start conversations with him - and he held them up, good naturedly, but didn't do anything to continue them. So, they would fall back into amiable silence, and she decided to just let the statue do what statues do.

Suddenly she wished for the silence.

"You are to come with me," she heard from behind her. She cringed, recognizing the voice - but it lacked some of its mirth. She stood up and stepped into the center aisle, Lyon following suit. There, standing ten feet away, was Zadock.

Cheshire hesitated - but she knew she didn't have a choice.

"Either I take you to see him, or, you can be obstinate and I can drag you there," Zadock said, an unreadable expression on his face. He was looking at her in a way she had never seen before - not the dangerous mischief or the devilish grin - but something flat, weary, and… cold. She had never seen Zadock 'cold.' She was suddenly much more worried about what she had done.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly. "For what it's worth…"

With no response, Zadock held out a hand to her, and she looked back to Lyon nervously. The priest was looking down at her pitifully, but she knew there was nothing he could do. She cringed again, and let out a wavering breath. Time to face the music…

She put her hand in Zadock's, and felt her world disappear under her again - dissolving into darkness and mist as he transformed them both into a swarm of bats.

When her world came back together, she staggered and this time half-fell to the floor. She recognized the carpet beneath her feet, and fear gripped her again. The throne room. _What else did you expect?! _she scolded herself.

Straightening up, she saw the same reclined, seemingly bored shadow sitting on the golden throne - cast in darkness with his red eyes glinting from beyond.

They let her stand there in silence, neither of them speaking… just… staring at her. She began to fidget nervously, and realized the necklace from the Brotherhood was still in her hand. She shoved it into her pocket, and decided to stare at the floor, rather than at the imposing figure in front of her.

"I'm sorry," she started, finally, breaking the silence.

"Be _quiet,_" Dracula's voice rumbled and she flinched, shutting her eyes tight against her fear. She reopened them after a moment - having expected a blow to follow the command. She waited… and yet, nothing. But she didn't dare open her mouth again.

Minutes must have ticked by. Minutes of her just standing, staring at the floor, not speaking. She raised her head finally, half-wondering if he was even still there. She hoped he had gone but - no luck. Still he sat, staring at her, boring a hole into her with his red eyes.

"Tell me what you know of the warlock," he finally spoke, his baritone voice filling the chamber.

"Wh...what?" she stammered out.

"Do not make him repeat himself," Zadock chimed coldly from her right. She had heard him sound cruel before - but not detached. Not uninvolved. She hated the tone of his voice, and she glanced to him to find his expression matched him. That worried her deeply.

"I don't… I don't know - just the giant shadow…"

"That is a lie," Dracula snarled, and slammed his fist into the arm of the throne. Cheshire yelped and jumped back, wrapping her arms around herself. "You spoke to Death in his false guise, and told him that the warlock had spoken to you in your dreams, did you not?!"

"I-"

"I am the master of the castle!" Dracula boomed, standing up from his throne. Cheshire shrunk backwards, but knew she had nowhere to hide. "Are you so foolish as to think that I do not know what transpires within these walls?! That I do not know where you wander, and what you seek?!"

"I'm sorry-" she said meekly, feeling what little sense of security she had fall away from her.

"You have grown so bold now as to attack us," Dracula moved across the dias and down the stairs that lead to his throne in a few long-strided steps and closed the distance between them so quickly she barely had time react. She shrieked as he grabbed her by the upper arms, his hands like talons, painfully digging into her skin. "You rendered my castle defenceless! Why?! On his orders?!"

"He had nothing to do with that!" she cried. "I swear-" too late, she realized her mistake.

"You admit your lie!" Dracula snarled down at her and shoved her backwards, tumbling back into Zadock who she hit like a brick wall. Zadock now took over gripping her shoulders - keeping her pinned in place as Dracula stepped towards her. Now she couldn't even retreat from him. She turned her head away, terrified, as the vampire gripped her chin in his hand and wrenched her head to face him. "Tell me the rest!"

"Please-" she started, her voice sounding so small.

"I should tear you apart… I should decorate a fountain with you and put you on display… I could gift you to any of the monsters within these walls to have as a new _plaything _until you were ready to tell me the truth. I could give you to Zadock here as payment for what you wrought… There are many ways I can make you suffer that still spare your life. Now _speak!_"

Cheshire could feel the tears stinging her eyes - but she was too afraid to let them fall. She was shaking, and knew that the vampire meant it. Knew that he could make good on his word - and still might, truth or not. Somewhere in her mind, she apologized to William - she didn't have a choice.

"He didn't have anything to do with what I did.. That was all me… That's why I keep telling you I can't give in to the darkness. That I can't kneel to you. That's what I'm capable of…" she shook her head. "I wanted Yoseph - _or whatever he is_ \- dead.. I wanted him to suffer. I wanted you all to suffer.."

"After the hospitality I have shown you, you lash out.." Dracula narrowed his eyes down at her.

"I am still your prisoner…"

"_Life_ is a prison, you foolish child!" Dracula roared. "These chains are no different than those worn by any one else! But you are dodging my questions," he snarled down at her and gripped her chin harder, his red eyes glinting in the light. Now tell me what I ask - what do you know of the warlock, what dealings have you had with him?!"

"He… he... appears in my dreams. He wants my help, but he… doesn't know how I can help him - neither do I. Please, I haven't done anything-"

"And what did you find in the crypts, then?!" Her stomach fell. It must have shown on her face. "Ah yes, little girl, I know of that as well. You cannot hide from _me._ Or was not that made perfectly clear?!"

"I'm sorry," she felt so… small, so useless, so hopeless.

"Then cease your lies… Why did you venture into the crypts?"

"His name," she said quietly. "I was looking for his name…"

"And did you find it?" She nodded. "And did you tell him what it was?" She nodded again.

Before she could even blink, something had struck her across the jaw and sent her sprawling to the floor. Her face lit up in pain - Dracula had backhanded her. Part of her mind was wrapped up in the pain while the other acknowledged that he could have quite literally knocked her head off her neck - he pulled his strike. But good god, it hurt. Stars swam in front of her eyes.

"Foolish girl… You foolish, childish girl… Do you even know what he is…? What he is capable of? What he plans to _do with you?!" _She felt a hand tangle itself into her hair and pull her to her feet - her world was painfully righted again and she felt an arm like titanium snap around her midsection - Zadock - keeping her standing.

Now it was Zadock who spoke - his cold breath touching her ear. "You naive thing.. did he whisper to you how he would free you? How he had been done some mighty wrong and that the two of you could be free, if only you helped him?" Zadock chuckled. "He is a monster… greater than any of us tenfold… We may destroy lives, little dove… but the warlock destroys _souls…_"

"You're lying to me," Cheshire muttered back to him. "All I get from anyone are lies…"

"I have never once spoken a lie to you," Zadock said passively. "Think on that - tell me an instance where I have led you astray." Cheshire couldn't answer - potentially because her head was still rattled from being struck, but… she couldn't answer. He took his opportunity in her silence. Zadock sneered coldly at her. "You see? Next time you speak to our dear friend _William… _Ask him how he obtains his power… and ask him about what he intends to do with _you._"

"The question remains what to do with you now," Dracula brought her attention back to him. "I should kill you… but the castle insists that you live. I hate to waste so many years of planning only to have you turn out to be useless." He reached out his taloned hand and took hold of her chin. "What punishment would you have me deal to you?"

"Wh..what? You're asking me?" Cheshire stammered, confused.

"I could subject you to torture until you surrendered to me… I could leave you in the cold to slowly starve… or let the ravagers have you until you were a scarred, broken body… I could leave you in the care of Zadock…" She heard Zadock chuckle quietly at that, a rumble from where she was pressed against his chest. "Or, perhaps… I could show you what suffering has been done to those hapless victims you brought with you…"

"I… what?" Cheshire repeated, still confused.

"Ah yes… Your companions. Shane, Sarah, Larissa… Their suffering has been quite _unique. _Have you forgot them all so soon?"

"You said you let them go..."

"I said I set them _free,_" Dracula sneered. "From what I did not specify. Perhaps you would like to see what has become of them! To see what tortures they endure so that you may live within my _kindness._"

"Oh God…"

Dracula laughed - a cruel laugh that tore at her already overwhelming fear of him. "When will you learn?! There is no _god_ here!"

"Please, no," Cheshire struggled against Zadock but it was pointless. "Let them go, please… I'm sorry, I'll do what you want, just.. They didn't have anything to do with this!"

"Tomorrow we will discuss the terms of your surrender. Enjoy your last moments of petulance, however brief they may be…" Dracula turned and walked back towards his throne. "But for now, I will use you to settle my own debt."

"Wh-" She felt Zadock suddenly start to nuzzle into her neck - the arm around her body tightening, his other hand ran up her side, up her arm, and to her hair where he tangled his fingers and pulled her head to the side. Cheshire cried out as he did. She struggled harder but… to no use. She felt his cold breath on her neck, and then felt his tongue slowly run along the skin under her ear. "Stop!" One arm was trapped underneath his, but with the other hand she tried to peel him away desperately.

"Mmm, finally," Zadock purred into her ear, and bit down on her earlobe hard enough that it stung. "We get to play together… Aren't you excited…?" She cried out louder as he dug his nails into her side painfully. "Ooh, really? Me too.."

She felt his tongue run along her neck again for a moment before a sting that hit her to her core - she felt the heat rush her as he bit into her neck. She struggled - she tried - but the more she did, the worse it hurt. Finally, she gave up, her hand that was yanking at his weakly dropped to her side.

Cheshire felt him leave the wound on her neck, and slowly, leisurely, circle the mark with his tongue. "Good girl.." she heard him purr against her as he picked her up in his arms. The last thing she saw was his fiendish grin. "What fun we'll have…"


	15. Chapter 15

**Hi All, this gets all M rating up in here - both violence and sex. So, if you don't like this kind of thing, skip to the end for the important synopsis of events. Otherwise, enjoy!**

* * *

Twice now, she found herself not quite waking up - but becoming aware of herself. She was standing in the center of a ballroom, walls covered in mirrors, reflecting more shadows than light. The dark herringbone wood floor seemed to go on in all directions from the center - and beyond the reflection were a million ballrooms, each with her standing in the center.

She knew this ballroom - she had been here before. That was the night that Shane and 'Yoseph' - the man (or monster now, it seemed,) - she had put her trust in to, only to find that he had led her here. That his whole existence masquerading as the Brotherhood soldier was to bring her to heel at the Castle, and for his master Dracula.

As her mind drifted over the thought of Dracula - she pulled in a shocked hiss of air through her teeth. Suddenly, reflected a million times in the dim, flickering candlelight from the chandeliers above, the master of the castle was looming behind her. She whirled around - but found nobody behind her. Yet she could see his reflection on the walls around her, facing her down.

"Isn't this backwards..?" she said meekly, her old battle-armor of sarcastic humor coming back to her, if barely. "Aren't you supposed to not have a reflection, not the other way around..?"

In the reflection, his hand shot out to grab her neck - and she staggered back from the nothing that was in front of her. His hand fell short, and grasped at air, the reflection swirling and vanishing, leaving her standing alone both in reality and reflection.

"Zadock, I know this is you," Cheshire called out to the room. "I've seen this trick before."

"Oh, I know you have," came a purr from behind her. She whirled - but found no one there. More tricks. She began to reach out for his mind, trying to find his location. "Ah ah! Now, no cheating. The Master would be terribly upset if he found you using your powers again…"

Cheshire pulled up short, and sighed, shaking her head. "Fine. But you don't scare me, and these tricks of yours aren't going to do any good."

"Mm.. I've thought about that, and I think I would like to rectify that situation. I tasted your fear, and I think I find it quite wonderful."

Cheshire rolled her eyes, and folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know what you're planning, and I don't really care. You aren't going to get into my head, and I think my hatred of you will always win out over any intimidation you could muster."

"MMm… You might be right, at least on the latter, but the former, you are _quite mistaken,_" he purred from nowhere with a small chuckle.

Cheshire shook her head again, confused. What did he mean, 'the former'? Ancient vampires and their command of grammar. She thought the sentence over in her head and realized what he meant… that he could get into her head. "You're wrong," she sighed. "We've been down that road before - you can't hypnotize me. If Dracula can't, you can't…"

"Ahh, but he _did,_ though, didn't he.." Zadock purred again, and she felt something touch her face. She swiped it away, but it wasn't there - like spiderwebs. "He fed from you… drank your glorious life force until you couldn't help it… until you let him in. Then you spilled such _wonderful secrets,_ didn't you…" The same touch came again, this time - running down her neck. She swiped and stepped back again - but there was nothing there to push away. She felt the beginning coils of fear start to shift in her stomach.

"Zadock, stop."

"There we are! Now you begin to realize the direness of your situation, my little one…" Zadock laughed again, his voice edged in cruelty. "I know you are wrong, my treasure, because it is already too late… I am _already_ inside your head…"

* * *

Like a fever dream breaking, she snapped back to reality - and found herself in no better of a situation than she was before. It took her a second or two to gather what was happening and where she was.

Laying on a bed that wasn't familiar to her, she was half-reclined on the pillows and found herself staring up at the grinning face of Zadock. He was kneeling, and had wrapped her legs around his waist, and she was now partially sitting in his lap. It was far… _far_… too intimate of a position for her liking. At least they were both clothed - small favors. She began to struggle, tried to pull her hands down to strike at him - but couldn't move her arms. Looking up, she found that she had been lashed to the vertical bed slats. "Zadock, let me _go!"_ she shouted.

"Yes, that moment.. that one moment when fear and anger meet - your eyes shine so beautifully," he purred thoughtfully, his head tilting to the side to watch her. "You wish to murder me, and yet… you know you are helpless. Unable to use your gift, you're just another mortal toy…" He reached his hand out and stroked her cheek with the back of his fingers - and she threw her head to the side to avoid his touch. Laughing, he placed his hand against her throat - the thumb lazily tracing the edge of her jaw. "But what a mortal toy you are, I must give you that."

Cheshire kicked - trying to push him off, but his other hand was now on her hip and pushed down hard enough that she winced. "Now admit when you are beaten, treasure, and stop this useless struggling… as adorable as you are when you are agitated, we have so much more… pleasurable things ahead of us."

Cheshire pulled in another breath as Zadock leaned forward, and moved the hand from her neck to the headboard to support himself. He leaned in, and tried to kiss her. Turning her head to the side to avoid him, he only chuckled. "Have it your way," he grinned, his lips brushing her skin, and he bent down lower towards her neck.

"No," Cheshire groaned and tossed her head the other way, forcing him to pull his own away from her. She looked up at him, her eyes wide. She hated being so afraid. "Zadock, stop this, please… I saved your life, remember."

"And for that, I am ever grateful. And for that, I repaid you," he smirked. "Or do you forget?"

"You call Yoseph 'repayment'?" Cheshire narrowed her eyes at him, now angry. "That is why I'm in this mess!"

"Hah!" Zadock half sat up, and toyed with the edge of her blouse absent-mindedly. "I repaid you in full, with information that was very valuable. How you chose to _spend_ that information was entirely your decision. You decided to have a… what is the modern phrase…. 'melt down'?" He chuckled again, his red hair glinting in the candlelight, the amber light making his orange eyes look like they were glowing of their own accord. "I have never understood that phrase until now, so I thank you for that clarity…" He began pulling at the string that tied her blouse together in the front, and began to idly unlace it.

"Zadock, no, please," she said, barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry for what I did - I didn't want to hurt everyone, I didn't intend to… I lost control, it's not my fault…"

"Take ownership for your mistakes," Zadock said idly, one hand still keeping her hips in place, the other slowly tugging at the laces. "You caused a great deal of commotion, you know… revealing your true strength in such a way. We never imagined you could hurt the castle _itself._ That makes you far more dangerous than we knew, and… now, you must be controlled. Our sweet and wonderful game is over, and I have been tasked with bringing you to heel. How I do so, and how painful it is, is entirely up to you, treasure."

Cheshire squeezed her eyes tight, fighting tears again. "You can't ask me to give in," Cheshire said barely above a whisper again. "I can't."

"I know," Zadock replied, and she felt his hand leave the ties to her blouse, and gently stroke her cheek. She let him this time - it was pointless to struggle, she might as well be stuck under steel and concrete. "I had hoped to win your friendship, you know… You and I, hypnotists and illusionists alike. I have so much to teach you… and I still could. The game has been expedited, but you could choose to surrender. You could choose to kneel. You are one of us, in your core - and you _know_ you are… You are called to the darkness not because it is a temptation, but because it is _right._ You are _meant_ to be here…" he insisted. "Meant to be with us…"

"That's not true," she replied, although she knew she lacked the conviction. She wasn't sure anymore. "This is all a ploy.."

"Mmh, you are partially right," Zadock said idly. She looked back up at him, and found him smiling down at her. He looked so damn pleased she wanted to slap him again. "It is a game of chess. Sadly, you did not realize that none of the pieces on the board shared your color, and none of the moves you made were your own. Now, you stand surrounded, and we will chase you about the board until you consent defeat. We were content to let you run about and choose your surrender - to Lyon, to myself, to Dracula perhaps… But now, we cannot let you have such leniency."

"Because of what I did?"

"No. We could have managed your power… Leashed you tighter, or blocked your gift. No. Because of _him._" Zadock growled out the last word, his face going cold. "Because you are a foolish, naive child and you consort now with a creature beyond your comprehension."

"So I'll stop," Cheshire half-pled.

"And you think we'll believe you?" Zadock grinned cruelly down at her. "Do not insult our intelligence. No. He has you in his sights, he believes you can aid his return, and so I..." he leaned forward again to kiss her, and he hovered barely away from her face - seeing if she would struggle or turn to avoid it. She could feel his cold breath against her skin. "Have been tasked with breaking you… before that can happen."

His mouth descended on hers then - it was a deep, relentless kiss that sucked the air out of her lungs. He tilted his head to the side, kissing her until it almost hurt - his tongue running lazy circles around her own. Zadock finally broke the kiss, and she gasped for air, her head spinning.

Zadock had finished unlacing her blouse. He pulled it apart, revealing her bra and bare skin and went for another kiss - this one allowing her at least the air to breathe. She struggled against him uselessly as he ran a hand along the swell of her breasts, slowly tracing the contour with his fingertips. He chuckled quietly in his throat and she could feel his hands run along her stomach and her sides, his pointed fingernails digging into her skin and raking them along her flesh.

"NNgh!" she cried out and arched her back, breaking the kiss, her nerves lighting up as he did. Pain shot up her sides - his nails digging deep enough to leave red marks in her skin. She yanked against the restraints, but it was useless.

He laughed, and nuzzled his head into the side of her neck, kissing the skin and running his tongue up to her jaw. "You are so _warm…_ and so _soft…_" He purred against her skin, and one hand abandoned clawing at her to hold the side of her face. "I have not lain with a mortal in some time… I think I will greatly enjoy being buried in that heat…" He pressed his hips into hers, through their clothing, and she let out a small noise from the back of her throat - part pain, part horror, part something else. She tried to turn her head away, but he held it in place. "It seems I am not the only one eager in anticipation…"

"Shut up," she snapped angrily at him. "Let me go."

He eased off, his hips pulling away from her core for a moment, before pressing back in, pressing himself against her. "Mmh… _ma dieu…_" He repeated the action, and pressed his lips against hers, passionately driving his tongue into her mouth. His other hand raked down her side again. He chuckled darkly against her lips as she cried out and arched against him, pressing her chest against his.

Zadock pulled back and straightened up, grasping her hips in both hands and pressing himself against her core again through their clothing, digging himself into her. Thank God they both still had pants on. He groaned low in the back of his throat, and Cheshire looked up at him to see his heated expression, his bright and usually cruel eyes now clouded with passion. He meant to go through with this, she could tell. Fear gripped her, and she tensed up.

"Ah, now…" Zadock lowered himself back down to her, one hand moving to her side to gently stroke her skin, the other supporting his weight against the headboard as he went to kiss her. She turned her head, and he placed a gentle kiss against her cheek, then her jaw. "Don't be afraid… Do you think I would hurt you? Do you think I would take this from you? No… I will make you want it, same as I."

His hand on her side slid slowly upwards and cupped her breast, and squeezed it through the lace bra - none-too-gently. He rode the line where the pain would be too much. Cheshire hissed in a breath that was part cry and part moan despite herself - and shut her eyes tight against the onslaught. "Stop…"

"The things I made you tell me, while you were semi-conscious and under my control," he kissed her cheek again, kissing along her skin as he spoke. "The things you admitted to me when your shame was hidden from you.."

"You're lying," she struggled against him, more for her own sanity than any chance of escape. He kneaded her breast again in his hand, then ran the sharp nail of his thumb along the edge of the lace. She pulled in another hiss of pain as he left another raised red welt against her skin. He moved his head down lower and she felt his tongue lick along the red welt - she couldn't help but watch as he traced the wound slowly.

"You admitted to me that you found me beautiful," he said idly against her skin as he kissed the top of the swell of her breast, then kissed his way higher to her neck. "And how… wonderful it felt when I fed from you…"

"Shut up," she growled between gritted teeth.

"And how I excited you.. and how you hated me, but grew to rely on me as a bastion of strange companionship… that when you saw me before, detached and uninvolved in your pain, how it scared you… How you felt abandoned..." he had now made his way up her neck and was now whispering in her ear.

Cheshire squeezed her eyes tight. Had she said those things? The last was true.. even if she was loathe to admit it. Had she really told him that? Had she really said the other things…?

"How you wished I would _take you,_" Zadock grinned against her skin.

"Now you're lying," Cheshire ground out again. Then, she swore, realizing her mistake.

"Hah! And so you admit where I draw the line," Zadock grinned and bit down on her earlobe. "You must wonder what else I asked… what else you told." She felt him fidget with the small piece of plastic that held her bra strap to the cup - and felt him pull it loose, the elastic releasing.

"Stop," she pled quietly.

"Sssh," he responded, his hand roaming to the other side and doing the same. "You are safe with me… I will not hurt you. Indeed, just the opposite… Tell me that your body does not begin to burn with need… Tell me that you do not find my attentions pleasurable."

"I don't," Cheshire growled.

"Now you are the one lying," his hand slid along the contour of her breast again and squeezed - and she hissed in a gasp of pain through her teeth. He chuckled at her reaction and his lips found hers again, lazily kissing her, chasing her head as she tried to pull away from him. He held the kiss, biting her lower lip and then running his tongue along where he had just done so. His hand slid slowly around behind her back, and she felt him grasp the clasp of her bra.

"Mmmfh!" she cried against his lips, and he broke the kiss, his face hovering just above hers, pausing in his actions.

"Yes?" he asked, feigning ignorance.

"Don't," she plead again.

"Surrender," he said with a small smile. "I know you want this… I know you want to surrender, to belong… to trust, to have _friends,_ to maybe.. even have a _lover…" _he said, his voice husky. "Give in to it… All this hurt, all this betrayal, has only come to you in your fight against the tide." His face still hovered centimeters above her own, and his cold breath against her made her skin feel like it was on fire.

"That's not true," she argued, but… she couldn't back up her own words with a scrap of evidence. Zadock pressed his bulge against her again, and she pulled in another breath through her teeth. Damn him. Damn herself.

"Let it happen… Let yourself feel it… Let yourself enjoy it. The darkness has so much to offer you..." Zadock said quietly as he descended on her lips again, and she felt him unclasp her bra. She let out another 'mffn!' against his lips, but he was not deterred. With the straps undone and now unclasped in the back, he pulled the bra from her body and tossed it aside.

She felt his cold hand take the place of the fabric, and felt him kneading her breast, his fingers now finding her nipple - already pert from his attentions, and she let out a cry against his lips as he pinched and twisted it in his fingers.

He broke the kiss slowly, and leaned backwards - he pulled her stiffly against him, pressing her heated core tighter to him as his lips took over where his hand had just been. Now able to free his other hand where it supported him, Zadock began to squeeze and knead her other breast.

Cheshire felt a moan escape her lips - and she whimpered and swore as she did, shaking her head as she tried to hold on to a reason to fight. Her obscenity turned into a louder cry as he bit down on her nipple, stinging enough to make her eyes water - but not bad enough to break the skin. He let up, and she found the ability to breathe again. His tongue slowly circled her nipple, tracing the teeth marks now left in her flesh. He bit her again, and she let out another sharp cry, the tender flesh already too sensitive from his previous assault.

"Zadock, please," she begged, but now wasn't even sure what she was asking for. Sensing her confusion, he let his hand and mouth switch places, and he began to bite and suck on her other breast, his hand gently kneading and soothing the reddened flesh of her other.

He lifted his head, and suddenly bared his teeth - and his fangs. "No - no-" she tried to interrupt him, but it was useless. Zadock drove his fangs down into the top of her breast, and she felt the horrible stinging pain. She struggled and kicked against him, but he held her pinned in place as the stinging faded.

She felt him begin to drink - and felt the throbbing pleasure that seemed to pull at her from everywhere all at once. She arched her back up against him, and this time her moan came forth without any resistance.

He began to drive his hips into hers, rhythmically pressing his growing erection into her hot core through their clothing, matching his pace to the speed at which he drank from her.

"Oh God," she whimpered out. She couldn't help it. It was too much. "Please, Zadock… please," she begged, for what she now had no clue.

"Mmmh," he let go of her, slowly licked the wound he left behind, and she felt the throbbing pleasure slowly lessen - but not disappear. Not with him pressing his hips into her like that. "That's it," he said soothingly, leaning forward again. One hand steadied her hips as he pressed harder against her, and she arched her back, gasping in pleasure.

"Please… I…" Her head was reeling, and she looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused.

"Sssh… There is no shame in this… no regrets to be had… Let go… Surrender to it," he urged gently, and kissed her - she could taste the blood as he did, tinny and copper in her mouth, bitter as he ran his tongue around inside her mouth. He broke the kiss after a long moment, and looked down at her, his eyes now fully clouded with passion and need. "Do you give in…?"

Cheshire watched him, wavering, uncertain… Her own need now almost driving her mad. "Can I trust you..?" she whispered.

"I am what I am," he responded quietly. "I have never promised you otherwise…"

She swallowed the lump in her throat, and this time did not try to turn her head as he leaned forward to kiss her - and this time didn't fight as his tongue moved into her mouth. Her eyes shut as he kissed her deeply, passionately, and she pulled in a wavering breath as he broke the kiss. "Do you surrender?" he asked again.

Cheshire nodded.

Hot liquid splashed down onto her chest as she felt Zadock jolt - and heard him gurgle in pain. She opened her eyes, and let out a shriek as she realized the liquid was blood - dark red, and splattered across her chest and face.

A knife end grotesquely protruded out of the front of Zadock's throat, the shining metal covered in viscous blood and bits of bone and muscle. Cheshire gasped as the knife withdrew with the sound of metal sliding against bone, and made a horrid crunching noise as it drove into his body again. A gloved hand roughly grabbed Zadock by the shoulder and ripped him off the bed - throwing his crumpled body to the floor. Blood began to pool in the carpet as he crawled, trying to escape his attacker. But the figure followed, driving the knife through the vampire's chest - and into his heart.

She heard Zadock scream - and roll onto his back, clawing at the man who stood over him uselessly as he was overcome by pain. His body seemed to crack and come apart at he seams - and fire began to consume him from the inside out, now that his heart was destroyed. He screamed, the sound of agony cut off abruptly as he was reduced to dust.

Zadock was dead.

Cheshire was shaking, terrified and confused, and pulled herself up towards the headboard as quick as she could - pulling her knees under herself. Still tied to the bed, she couldn't cover herself as the figure that loomed over the ashes of the vampire straightened up, and turned.

He was wearing clothing that dated from the turn of the century - white gloves, and his blond hair was pulled back in a neat ponytail, although some escaped and fell in front of his face. He was tall, lean, but broader at the shoulders than Zadock had been. His features were sharp - but not unnaturally so like the vampire. And his eyes were a bright, piercing green.

She knew him. She had never seen his face… but she knew him.

"William..?" she asked, her voice hesitant and in disbelief.

"Aren't you the pretty sight," he said, his voice low and void of emotion.

"H-How…" she stammered uselessly.

William sighed, and stepped towards the side of the bed. He didn't respond as he reached forward, and taking her wrist in one hand, cut the rope that bound her with the other. He did the same to the other hand, and Cheshire moved to the opposite side of the bed, standing up, and pulling her blouse shut in front of her, and held it shut. She was covered in blood - Zadock's blood, although some of it was probably technically hers - but she didn't have time to worry about that right now.

"You gave in," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I-" she was trembling, and the world tilted around her dangerously. She felt William grab her shoulders, and sit her down on the edge of the bed. She was too dizzy - from everything that happened, from the blood loss… and now this.

"You gave in to him," William repeated. "You were going to-" he sighed, cut himself off, and she watched him clench his fists and then release them. "You should have waited."

"How are you… How are you even here?" she asked, not wanting to address his comments yet. She didn't understand herself either.

"There is power in a name," William said with a faint smile. "You gave me back my name, and the rest followed suit."

"You were dead," she felt like an idiot, stating the obvious.

"I am a warlock of considerable strength. Despite how Dracula makes a commotion of coming back from the dead, it really isn't _that_ hard…" he shrugged dismissively. "And you are eloquently dodging." He turned to her, his green eyes flashing in anger and… disappointment. "You surrendered."

"I… I'm sorry, I," she stammered weakly.

"I _love you,_ and you _betrayed me!_" William yelled, and she recoiled from his sudden outburst.

"Wh...What?!" she asked, stunned. What did he just say?!

"You heard me," William snapped, and loomed over her. "For all your troubles, you commit betrayal just the same."

"I… be-before that…" She shook her head.

"I love you," William sighed. "You knew that."

"No… I… really… didn't." Cheshire replied flatly. To say she felt like she was on a rollercoaster was an understatement.

"Of course you did. And you love me the same," he insisted.

Cheshire couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of it. What the hell was happening? William's face flashed in anger as she laughed and she held up a hand to try and calm him. "I'm sorry, but, I don't," she paused for a second, looking at him oddly. "I don't even know you," she finished.

"First you betray me, and now you lie." He walked away from her, and began pacing. "Else why would you have offered to help me?"

"For my freedom," Cheshire said quietly. "That was what you said… that if I helped you, you would help me…"

"I have too much work to do here than to just simply leave," William was still pacing.

Something felt off. Something felt wrong. "And what work is that?" she asked. Best to keep him talking, while she tried to figure this out.

"First item, vengeance. I will destroy Dracula… and take this castle from him," William said with a sick smile. He stopped to face her, and the sick smile turned into a cruel smile. "And with that done… And with you at my side, I will have what I need."

"And what is that, exactly?" The blood was starting to cool and turn sticky - she desperately wanted to get it off of her, but… other priorities. She was still trembling, and was forcing herself to deal with the matter at hand and not what had just transpired.

"An endless source to feed my power."

Cheshire shook her head. "Stop talking in riddles. Be plain." Something still felt very wrong… She didn't know William - but this felt different. But maybe now that he was whole, this is how he really was.

"Haven't you figured it out..?" he asked with another twist of his lips. "I feed on souls… they are the source of my power. I destroy them, render them into raw energy and use them to work my magic. And this place… is an endless supply of souls. But I cannot communicate with the castle - Not as Dracula does. Not as you do. That is why you must stay at my side - to control this place while I use it for my own ends."

William stepped forward, and knelt down in front of her, and put a gloved hand to her cheek. She didn't pull away, and let him touch her, and looked into his green eyes that seemed to flash with a kind of madness she hadn't seen in him before. No, that wasn't true - Linger was William, and Linger certainly was insane.

"And then we can be together, like I promised…" William insisted quietly.

He had never promised that. He had never even implied that he wanted her by his side. Something was definitely wrong. Cheshire looked off, using her real confusion to mask her processing what was happening. William had also made no mention of his face - no mention of the mask that she had always seen him wear, since he couldn't remember what he looked like…

She had one shot - one way to figure out what was happening. Cheshire could reach into his mind and try and control him - then, she would know who he really was. What was really going on. But if she did… Dracula would know. And that would be the end of William. The end of her only chance for 'freedom.' But by the way William was talking, her freedom would be to stand at his side as he consumed souls for power and..

"You never told me what your plans were after you take the castle," Cheshire remarked idly. "World domination?" she asked as she looked back at him.

"The human race is overrun," he said with a small smile. "Balance must be restored."

"Mass extinction," she said quietly.

"Yes. The same that Dracula has often touted as his lofty goal - and yet never seemed to reach for," William grinned. "I have the power to succeed where he failed."

Cheshire nodded - and William smiled, thinking her nod was for him. No, it was for herself. He wanted to murder the world. She now had to choose between the lesser of two evils - and god help her, it was Dracula.

That is, unless her suspicion was right. If she was… she had another chance. If she wasn't… she would give in to the master of the castle after all. Cheshire took a deep breath, and turned her mismatched eyes to William, and rolled the dice.

Reaching into his mind, she took hold - and - her world crumbled around her.

* * *

Cheshire came to as she heard someone yell in pain - and heard a thump from next to her. She blindly reached out - and grasped at nothing. Her world came into focus a second later, and she found herself sitting on…. a cushioned bench.

Dracula's strange study - she recognized it from before. Cheshire's heart was racing, and she heard it pounding in her ears a she stood too quickly - felt her head swim and she was forced to sit. She finally noticed the figure now getting up from the floor, holding his head.

Zadock.

"You asshole!" she cried, and flew at him, desperately trying to punch him. "It was all a lie!" He, off guard from what she had done to him when she had forcibly broken his illusion, pulled back from her and raised his arm to defend himself.

"Be still," came a deep voice from elsewhere in the room. She would know it anywhere now - Dracula.

She froze and turned her head, seeing him now sitting in his chair, for the first time not looking bored. He was watching her intently. "Sit," he commanded, and gestured back to the bench.

Cheshire didn't have much choice. She walked back to the bench, and sat down on it, and pulled one of the pillows into her lap, hugging it - for what comfort it provided.

Zadock, meanwhile, took a different chair close to the fire, still gripping his head in one hand. Dracula turned to look at him - and the red-headed vampire raised a hand as if asking for a moment. The master of the castle turned his attention back to her.

"How much did you see..?" she asked weakly, not really wanting to know the answer.

"All."

Cheshire winced, and felt her face flush in embarrassment.

"Yours is not the first seduction I have witnessed nor taken part in," Dracula said, a small sneer crossing his face. "And you are no wilting flower so unknowing of the ways of men, so cease your act of shame."

She clenched her jaw and glared at him - biting her tongue knowing that any smart-ass remark would only get her in more trouble. Apparently, her flash of anger was what Dracula wanted to see, as his sneer faded.

"That is better," he commented. "You see now what the warlock intends, if he were to regain his life. Where I am unwilling to destroy this world and the miserable lives than inhabit it, he is not. And I do so at the cost of human life - not the human _essence_ as he does. I send souls to their maker. He sends them to oblivion."

That struck deep, and Cheshire paused to let it settle in. "How do I know you're telling me the truth?"

"You do not," he responded. "But you may ask him yourself. I am sure he will visit you again in your dreams as he has before. Ask him then, now that you are aware of the truth of him."

"I played him poorly, it seems," Zadock muttered from near the fireplace, and lifted his head, groaning in pain. "What gave me away?"

"Your 'love' comments," Cheshire looked back at the vampire she had just nearly made love to - who had just made her experience such a mix of emotions that now left her in turmoil. How much of it was her own? How much of it was part of his illusion? She suspected far more of it was truth than she would like to believe… As much as she wanted to blame him, she wasn't innocent in this. But she could sort that all out later. "He's never said any of that to me… Only asking for help."

"And will you continue to aid him?" Dracula asked, his stare unrelenting.

She paused for a long moment as she thought - and he allowed her to turn it over in her mind. Cheshire studied the carpet as she thought over the illusion - from front to back, and everything that had happened to her, everything that had been said. She settled on the moment at the end, where she had chosen to 'roll the dice' on her suspicion that all was not as it seemed.

"If you're right," she said, thoughtfully. She looked up from the floor and met his red eyes. "And he really does seek to wipe out most of humanity - and destroys souls to get there… Then no. I won't," for the first time in a long time, she felt certain of her decision. "I would rather serve you willingly than to aid in the extinction of mankind."

Dracula smiled - and for the first time, it wasn't a cruel one. It was… sad. "And so you come to same conclusion I did, so many years ago…" The smile was gone as soon as it had arrived. "Return to your quarters and rest. Tomorrow, you will be given your last decision to make."

Cheshire felt the knot in her stomach - that had been absent so far - twist violently to remind her of who he was and who she was dealing with.

Standing up, she was all too happy to leave the room and make her way back to her room. She found it easily, without having to ask for help. Entering the room, she was happy to find it empty. Shutting the door, she locked it behind herself and paused. She almost forgot - she had someone to apologize to.

She placed her hand on the wall - she really didn't know why she did, but it somehow made her feel more connected - she shut her eyes and reached out with her mind. She felt it easily - the rushing current below the surface of the frozen river. The castle.

"I'm so sorry," she said aloud to it - knowing it couldn't hear her words, but could feel her sentiment. And she meant it. "I am so sorry I hurt you… I didn't mean to. I lashed out in my own pain, and didn't care for what I made suffer. I was wrong, and I am so sorry..."

Cheshire remembered what the ghost had said to her in the catacombs - that she had learned that the castle listens, but not yet learned that it speaks. She knew it talked - but she was too afraid still to try and hear it. In the metaphor she imagined, where the castle was a frozen river, and she could place her hand on the ice and feel the current ripping by - she knew if she reached her hand into that river, she would hear it… But she was afraid of what it would do to her.

So for now, she hoped it was content with her apology.

Cheshire felt so tired - so worn out from what had happened today. It had been unrelenting. Walking towards the bed, she stopped to look at herself in the mirror - and for a moment was surprised she wasn't covered in blood. It had all been an illusion. Well, it had been.. except for her surrender.

She winced and turned away from the reflection, and fell onto the bed, not bothering to change. She had given in to Zadock because she had wanted to - not because she had been forced. He hadn't followed through in order to torment her with the thought that William might not be the savior she hoped he was - but that didn't change what could have happened.

Shutting her eyes, she was so tired she felt the room spin around her, and she was asleep not long after. But she knew it wouldn't be undisturbed.

* * *

She was back in the ballroom - back surrounded by the mirrors, the flickering dim light, and reflections.

"Damn it," she muttered quietly. She was dressed the same - and she wondered if this was another illusion.

"No, you are dreaming…" came a voice from behind her. She turned, and there - standing in front of her, but missing from the reflections in the glass… was William.

He was dressed the same as she had seen him in the illusion - but wore the mask. The unnerving white mask, with the slit for a mouth and the single hole over the eye. He was standing a few feet away from her, hands clasped behind his back, and head bowed slightly.

"William," she said quietly, and almost found herself relieved. He was the real one - she could sense it. And no one else knew about that damnable mask.

"I'm losing you," he said quietly. "I could feel what they did to you - but I could not see it. I am glad I did not..." He dropped his arms to his sides, and she saw his fists were clenched tight. "He laid his hands on you, and…"

"Nothing happened," she said. His head tilted up to look at her, and she chewed her lip. "Well, not nothing, but, not… everything," she sighed. "I'm so sorry, I-"

"I have no claim to you," William said quietly, cutting her off. "You are not my property. You are free to chose your own way," he began to raise a hand towards her, but dropped it. "I only wished you chose different."

"I haven't chosen," Cheshire insisted. "I haven't given in."

"But you have!" William insisted, and stepped towards her. She struggled not to withdraw - and kept her ground as he put his hands on either side of her face. His touch wasn't violent, and his voice seemed more dire than angry. "They told you, and now you have chosen."

"So it's true," she said quietly. "What you plan to do if you come back to life."

"No," William insisted.

"Then you're saying Dracula lied."

"Sadly, no…" William sighed. "That was my goal - once. Before I died. But now, I simply wish to regain my life. To regain my power. To be a man once more. I have lost enough to know what truly matters. If I have this castle, if I have you, that is all I will need.. I will be happy and content to be king here."

"I don't know if I believe you… but… I don't want to argue." She chewed on her lip again. She needed to know the rest. "And how do you plan on feeding your power…?" Cheshire asked, leadingly.

"But how I gain my power, yes, they were not lying on that subject, either. I feed from souls. That is why when I am close to you, I am stronger."

"You're feeding from me?" Cheshire asked, somehow not shocked. Everything around here fed on life, one way or another. She wasn't sure how that was different from normal people.

"Yes. But you are strong enough, you barely even notice… it isn't hurting you, I promise. I would never hurt you." He placed his palm against her cheek, and she shut her eyes, letting him touch her.

"Why is that?" she asked.

"Mmh.. You wonder if I love you, the way he pretended," William said, his voice reflecting his change in mood, his insistence turning into anger - but not at her. "No, Cheshire… I don't. Because I am not whole. I am not a man… I am a broken piece of one. How can I love, if I am not whole?" She opened her eyes and looked up at him, into the empty void behind the mask.

She realized that the mask wasn't hiding his face - it was covering that there was _no face there._ He didn't remember his own face - he hadn't even known his own name.

"But I… feel myself trying to," he said quietly, his voice so quiet it was hard to hear him. "I feel myself drawn to you." He ran one of his gloved hands through her hair slowly, an action that seemed to be much for him than for her. "I can promise you this… If you bring me back to life, and my motives are not to your liking, then I will give you the choice to end my life once again. I will go back to the void knowing I have been properly condemned by my equal, not rival…"

That hit her like a pile of bricks. She took a step back from him, and he let her go. She wished she had somewhere to sit down, but instead turned around, to give herself some distance. "I don't want that."

"You do. You are strong enough to shoulder that responsibility, and I trust you to make the proper judgement. Your life has ever been choosing between the lesser of two evils - and now you stand poised to make _yourself_ the lesser of two evils.."

"I'm not evil!" she whirled around to face him.

"And so now you see it," he began. "You begin to see that there is no such thing as good, and evil," he reached out to her again, and she let him step forward and stroke her cheek with his thumb. "Only life and death, chaos and order, malice and kindness, hatred and love. Good and evil are only human words to assign value - assign some.. overarching system onto a world that we barely understand… You are no more evil than a member of the brotherhood, nor are they any less evil than a flower. Such things do _not exist."_

He reached out to hug her, and she stepped into his embrace, letting him wrap his arms around her and place his masked chin on the top of her head. "You are only capable of more love or more hatred… And so yes, you must choose to whom you are kind or cruel, and to whom you decide to stand beside… Myself, or Dracula."

"I want to stand beside myself," she muttered.

"As do we all," William said, and she felt him hug her tighter - not uncomfortably so. "And so I give you that gift.. If you stand beside me, and find my existence so loathesome as you regret your choice… you may end it. Dracula will not extend you any such offer."

"But how?" she asked. "You're dead. You're still… broken."

William took half a step back, and reached out his hand palm up. "Give me the necklace," he said quietly.

Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out the necklace of the Brotherhood of Light - the one she had worn until she learned of Yoseph's betrayal, and placed it into his palm.

William closed his hand around it, and began to mutter something to himself - Cheshire tried to follow along with what he was saying, tried to make sense of the words - but the more she tried to wrap her mind around what he was saying, the sicker she felt. Magic, she realized - incantations. Of course she couldn't understand what he was saying, she wasn't supposed to. The necklace was glowing - she could see the light escaping from between his fingers.

He finished, and opened his palm. "It is all that is left of me, now." William took the necklace, and undid the clasp that - she swore she had broken, but now looked whole again. He placed it around her neck, and redid the clasp behind her head, and gently pulled her hair out from under the chain. "If you fail, or - choose differently, I will no longer visit you. All that I remain to be, now lives within that chain."

"What do I do…?"

"Someone must die so that I may live," William said quietly, and gently placed his hands on her shoulders. "I must ask you to kill someone for my existence, and for that I am sorry…"

Cheshire shook her head. "I made a promise…"

"And I ask you now to break it. For me, for your freedom. Someone must die. It does not matter who, but give them this necklace and I will use their body to be free."

She picked up the necklace, and looked down at the symbol - the symbol that was supposed to represent light, life, and protection against evil. To her, it was a symbol of betrayal. Her betrayal, her betrayal of others, their betrayal to her… and now, it was a symbol of death.

"Goodbye, Cheshire…" he took a step away from her. "I would kiss you, but… I… have no lips to do so," he said with a small chuckle. "Until the morrow…"

Cheshire felt tears sting her eyes - he was saying goodbye in case she chose differently. In case she didn't choose to kill for him. "I… goodbye."

* * *

**Phew! Getting close to the end, guys - a few more chapters! :D **

**Okay, here's the non-M rated version for those of you who skipped:**

After accidentally taking out the whole of the castle with her psychic blast, Zadock fed from Cheshire with the intent to punish her. As he did, he placed her into a trance. Cheshire 'awoke' into a series of illusions. The first was in the ballroom from before, and the second where Zadock finally seduced her into surrendering (at least to him, if not to the darkness as a whole,) only to apparently be killed by the appearance of William before Zadock could finish his seduction.

William, still Zadock masquerading as an illusion, insisted that he loved her and that now she could take her place at his side. He then told her two things: One, that he didn't just feed on life, but souls. And two, that he planned to murder most of humanity to 'restore balance.'

Cheshire was suspicious suddenly that something was off. Cheshire realized she had a choice - either she was right in her theory that this was an illusion and she could break it by reaching into 'William's' mind, or she was wrong - and by reaching into his mind, give William up to Dracula because of the enchanted bracelet she wore that allowed Dracula to sense her use her power.

Cheshire chose to invade 'William's' mind - and in doing so, proved him to be false and it to be an illusion. But the choices she made in the illusionary world - one, to surrender to Zadock and the darkness - and two, that she would rather serve Dracula than a man who would destroy the world, lingered.

Dracula allowed her to get some rest before the following day where she would 'make her last choice.'

In her sleep, the real William appeared to her and told her that yes, he fed on souls but no, he changed his mind. His motive was no longer to kill the world, but simply now to 'once again be a man' and rule the castle as its king. Cheshire doesn't quite believe him.

William has decided to give her the option that if she brings him back to life, and she thinks it was a mistake, that she could end his life again. He takes the necklace she had from the brotherhood, and places what's left of his soul inside of it. He instructs her to break her promise never to kill again - and to give that necklace to someone in order for him to take over their living essence and come back from the dead.

William leaves her then, saying goodbye, in case she chooses to abandon him and side with Dracula.


	16. Chapter 16

**Wow. So sorry I've been away for so long! I promise I will finish this story - we're getting near the end. This chapter is a short one, but I wanted to let you know I'm still alive. ;) Pop me a review if you have time, otherwise, enjoy!**

* * *

Cheshire stood with her hand upon the doorknob of her room, trying to decide whether she was going to step outside of them or not. It was hard to sleep - she had spent the last hour or so pacing back and forth in her room, thinking. The more she ran through everything in her head, the more confused she became.

She didn't think this could all get any more convoluted than it already had been. The events of yesterday were overwhelming to the point where they almost felt like it hadn't happened - like it had been one of her illusions. First, the revelation of Yoseph's betrayal, and that he had been Death masquerading as a man for the entirety of the time she had known him. Then, her breakdown and attack of retribution that waylaid the castle as a whole. Zadock's… attempt to coerce her surrender - an attempt that had been far more successful that she wanted to admit to herself.

And now… as if that wasn't enough to process.. William. William and his plea to her - that she should kill someone to bring him back to life. Even if she agreed - who? Who would she condemn to death? And it wasn't even death she was condemning her victim to… it was oblivion. Her hand strayed to the necklace of the Order she once wore again - she had broken it yesterday, but William had repaired it. Now, it contained all that was left of the broken mind and soul of the warlock.

Dracula destroyed life - he and the castle fed on blood, on the life force of those they preyed upon… William preyed on souls - destroyed the person's very existence… Whoever she was condemning… if she decided to go through with it - she was condemning to the void.

Cheshire didn't know if she could handle that. She didn't know if there was an afterlife, although she assumed there was, now, with everything she had seen here at the castle. But if there _was_ an afterlife, or another life at least, they would be denied that. Denied anything they ever were, or would be.

And he had once committed to destroying most of humanity.

But… he had told her that he had changed his mind. That now, all he wanted was to be whole again - and to rule the castle. He had also sworn that if she changed her mind…

Cheshire shook her head, gripping the doorknob harder like if she did, it would answer her confusion. She now had to choose between Dracula or William - a vampiric tyrant who she was terrified of and who bore her no kindness - or William, a dead warlock who was kind and gentle to her, but whose power came at a terrible cost.

She wished she could just choose to go home, but she knew that wasn't on the table.

Cheshire desperately wished there was someone she could talk to - someone she could trust. Someone who could help her reason through what was happening. But she knew there was no one. Lyon was loyal to Dracula, and Linger would be no help at all.

Turning the knob, she committed herself to finding the throne room and… just winging it. Opening the door, she blinked - the hallway outside of her room wasn't one she recognized. It seemed not nearly as well cared for - the marble was cracked and greyed and there were no fires lit in the brazers that lined the walls. It felt very… cold.

"Huh."

Stepping out into the hallway, she let the door close behind her. The hallway was long, narrow, but tall - making it feel almost like the walls were pressing in. Turning back to look at her door - it was gone.

"Alright, I get the hint…" she said to the walls as she walked down the narrow passageway. Despite today being an 'important day' - she had dressed more for comfort than for show. She had found a linen coat in the closet that fit her well, and she was happy that she could stuff her hands into the pockets.

As she walked, she noticed there were no other doors or windows - just the ashen walls, columns, and the emptiness. There was light coming from small openings in the ceiling, shafts that went upwards and glowed a dull grey from some unseen source. She knew it couldn't have been the sun, as it never rose at the castle. But this place seemed to run on the same tenuous grasp of reality and physics that she often employed in her own visions - so who was she to judge?

Her footfalls seemed impossibly loud against the stone, echoing in the tight hallway. The passage went along for quite a ways before it finally opened up to a large antechamber- dominated by a gigantic double door.

Cheshire let out a small impressed whistle as she looked up at the massive wooden and stone structure. It looked… ancient. In fact, the whole of the hallway and now the antechamber she stood in looked much older than the rest of the castle, if possible. Almost Greek. Or Sumerian, maybe.

She pushed her hands into her pockets again and looked around - what the hell was she supposed to do? What was she doing here, and where was 'here' anyway? Not like she could push open a twenty foot tall door and -

The door began to move. _Of course it's opening,_ she chided herself. Something brought her here - they weren't going to leave her sitting on their stoop. Shockingly, the giant door opened without a noise, gliding open in a manner that seemed impossible for something its size. She was becoming accustomed to 'eerie' at this point her in her stay.

The chamber beyond was dark - and… she really had no other option. She quoted an old Disney movie to herself idly. "We mustn't lurk in doorways, it's rude." Sighing, Cheshire stepped forward, walking by the large doors into the dim chamber - she watched idly as the large doors silently swung shut behind her.

As they did, fire burst into light around her, illuminating the chamber. She pulled in a breath as she began to suspect where exactly she was...

The chamber was huge - easily a hundred feet in diameter. It was an octagon in shape, and about fifty feet up, the ceiling arched upwards into a massive dome. The dome was painted in an elaborate mural - stretching around, and at least fifty feet tall in itself. What it portrayed… was the castle itself - every part of it was painted around the edges, parts she knew - parts she didn't recognize. In the painting were figures, monsters, demons and vampires - some engaged in battle, some standing resplendent in their glory. Prominently featured, in an area of the castle painting that could be called the 'center' of the circular mural was Dracula.

The height of the room almost made her lose her balance.

Finally turning her gaze from the beautiful piece of artwork, she took better stock of where she was. In the center of the room, directly beneath the massive painted dome was a pool - circular, and… filled with a dark, black liquid that shone like glass in the firelight.

Cheshire let out a small groan, as she surmised what the liquid really was.

_Welcome home. _

Cheshire whirled around - but… there was no one there. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere. It wasn't in her mind, per se, but it could have been. The voice sounded more like voices, plural, many talking all at once - male, female, monstrous. All layered on each-other, but… still understandable.

"Hello…?"

_You know where you stand._

"I'm starting to suspect, but… just confirm my theory," she responded to the voice.

_You stand at our heart._

Cheshire nodded silently,and felt her heartbeat pick up. "I know this question… probably isn't doing justice to the magnitude of what you are, but… you're the voice of the castle, then..?"

_We are no more the voice of the castle than the howling storm is the voice of the air. _

It was unnerving - hearing so many voices talking all at once. She fidgeted, shifting from one foot to the other. She only nodded again, not really knowing what to say to… the.. building. Finally, after the long pause, she found her words. "I'm sorry for yesterday."

_We know. We will always forgive our children…_

"Children?"

_You are our child. And now you have come home to us._

"I… I'm not," she said quietly. "I don't belong here."

_You know you speak falsely. You are ours. We have sung for you to come home, and now you are here. Nothing makes us weep more than the sorrow of the hunger that is not fed, or the nature that is denied._

Cheshire chewed on her lip and wrapped her arms around herself. "Everyone keeps telling me that I belong here. That I should be here, and that I should give up."

_All you give up is the insistence that you should be amongst the mortals. Or that you, a creature of another creed, should abide by their moral laws and governance. _

Cheshire lowered her head. "I know… But I don't want to be this way."

_Does the master not weep for the loss of his family and his humanity? Does Lyon, the priest, not yearn for the light? Yet should they be not what they are? Would you wish them dead?_

"No," Cheshire shook her head, after thinking about it for a moment. "I don't want them dead. There is beauty in this place, in… uh.. you," she finished. Lyon was an easy decision - Dracula, harder, but she blamed it more on her fear of him than anything else. "The world would be less interesting without them here. And who am I to decide? That's the whole point of this - I don't have the right to decide who lives and dies. I thought so once - and I was wrong."

_Such hatred you have for yourself, then - that you find beauty in their embrace of the darkness and yet revile it for your own soul._

Cheshire shut her eyes tight, and took a moment. That shook her to her core. The castle had hit on something she didn't want to ever say internally, let alone out loud. She hated herself for what she was. It was probably more obvious than she hoped. "Good guess."

_We do not guess. We hear your thoughts, we hear your pain. You are our child. We heard your cry - your yearning for a voice you could trust… so we brought you here. _

"You keep saying that, that I'm your child-" She was _really_ good at changing the subject - ancient primordial creature of darkness be damned. "Do you mean that figuratively, or literally..?"

_Our children walk astray as any may do from their homeland. Our children are not prisoners here, but walk this world freely. They come home as all are want to do. You were born of one of us. You are our bloodline. You bring us joy._

"Oh. Uh. Wow," Cheshire muttered. "You mean literally…" She began to pace now, unable to stand still. She knew her parents - her father, anyway. She ran away from home when she was young, because he 'didn't understand her.' If her mother, who she only knew when she was young, was…. from here…

_You suffer so deeply._

"This place is built on suffering. The creatures here _love_ suffering. Somewhere here, Sarah, Shane and Larissa are suffering. Don't… don't pretend you pity me," she half-lectured herself as she ranted.

_We are darkness, we are death, we are malice and suffering. We are the hunger, and the feast. We are the reflection that gives hope its meaning._

"I can't take part - I can't cause suffering like that." Cheshire ran both her hands through her hair - this conversation wasn't helping her at all. "I'm not… malicious. I can be, God knows I can be - but I can't be that person anymore. I'm _not_ that person anymore."

_Neither are you so transformed. _

"What would you have me do? What would you have me become? A monster on some murderous rampage?!" She was getting upset - but not at the castle, at herself.

_We would have you be true to your own nature… We would have you become the Queen of Lies, to practice compassion or hatred at your own discretion. As you are meant to be. _

Cheshire shook her head - and covered her eyes with her hands for a moment as she pulled in a wavering breath. She had no words. The castle continued.

_Do you think we control the minds of our children? Look at the King of the castle - does he not suffer conflict? Does he not feel pain and loss? He is our beloved, same as you. If he were under our control, would we not wipe away his pain? To give in to what you truly are is only to no longer deny where you belong. You do not gives us anything more._

Tears stung her eyes, and she wiped them away angrily - Christ, she was sick of crying. She seemed to do it a lot, here. "I don't know how anymore - even if I tried, I don't think I could accept what I am, not now, not after all this."

_Come home to us, child… _

This time, the tears fell down her cheeks and she didn't bother trying to hide them. What was the point? The castle could read her thoughts anyway.

She realized the liquid in the pool was… rising. She watched idly as it rose up over the marble and mosaic lip of the pool and began to spill across the floor - but - only in her direction.

A thin tendril of the dark blood - so dark it was almost black, began to weave its way across the floor towards her. She took a step back involuntarily. It was slow, taking its time - but it was very much heading for her. "What're you doing…?"

_Embracing our kin. As you should do._

"What… Even if I... " She kept her eyes on the thin tendril of blood. "Even if I said fine and I… gave… in… to your… embrace," she said slowly, not really understanding _what _was about to happen, but understanding the gist of it. "What then…?"

_Your mortality would be over. You would be amongst us, as one of my children, for all time. Free to wander the earth, but your home would always be here… Let us hold you, let us give you that gift… Your pain - we cannot take it away - but we can lessen it..._

Cheshire winced. She wouldn't be human anymore. She knew that was bound to happen anyway - death was too easy a release for her now. Either she was going to become a vampire at the hands of her captors or… something else.

"What about Dracula…? What about William…?"

_You may choose your King. It matters not to us…_

"But Dracula is one of your children, isn't he?" She took another step back away from the blood - but now it had split in two, and was now circling her. She knew logically she could just step _over_ the line of blood, but something felt very final about it cornering her.

_And so is William. Many Kings of the castle come and go… In this we have no advice. In this, you must choose your King._

Cheshire chewed her lip, watching as the blood completed its path around her, forming a perfect circle. Slowly, the blood began to creep inwards. "What if I say no? What if I refuse to.. 'embrace' you…?"

_We will release you back to your chambers as if nothing had transpired, and we will weep for you as you suffer… _

"And if I say yes?"

_We take away your humanity… and hope that it lessens your pain… We hope it brings you home to us…_

"So it'll brainwash me, and make me inhuman.."

_It is no hypnotism. We will not harm your mind… you would still be your own… but changed. We give you this gift, so that you may stand against or beside Dracula not as his equal - but neither as his prisoner. Surrender to us… and spare yourself the surrender to either man or vampire._

It was futile. It truly was, wasn't it? It was like Zadock had said - she was playing chess, and no other pieces on the board were her own… and now they were running her down. She would fall, eventually. But here, and now, she could surrender to the darkness - and the darkness _alone._ With no fealty to Dracula, William, or anyone else. Without pledging loyalty to anything other than her 'true nature.'

She looked down at her hands. The blood around her was close now - inches from her feet - but it paused. It really was letting her decide. She let out a long, wavering sigh. Her salvation at the hands of the Order was a lie. Her rampant destruction of human life had been a setup. All at the hands of other people. She was never - not once in her life - ever allowed to walk on her own, to make her own decisions. She was too much of a 'commodity.'

Damn them _all._

She didn't know why she did it - but it felt right. The castle was likely whispering to her - she wondered how deep its influence ran into her subconscious. It didn't matter now. She took a step towards the pool of crimson-black in the center of the room. Her foot squished into the river of blood that had flowed towards her. It began to curl up her foot, and she watched as it began to move its way up her legs as she walked.

The castle was silent now - it didn't need words anymore. She walked to the edge of the pool and took a step into the mire- the blood was now up past her ankles. She felt her foot hit the solid stone step that ran around the edge of the structure. The blood was now up to her knees, and climbing. It was hot - she had expected it to be cold - but it was like stepping into a hot tub, almost - it was almost overwhelmingly hot. She almost thought - but it could have been her imagination - that the blood was… throbbing - like a heartbeat - just barely - but she didn't have time to linger on it.

There was no turning back.

She shut her eyes, and stepped forward from the edge of the pool into the blood - she felt herself sink into it - felt the warmth roll up her arms, her chest - up her neck - and then it was all around her. She felt it _press_ into her - and… the heat was too much. Her mind emptied, and she suspected consciousness left her - but… there was no way to be sure.


	17. Chapter 17

**Not a lot of words, but a lot happening. We're a few chapters from the end now! Hope you enjoy! :)**

* * *

Cheshire stretched, yawned, and almost forgot where she was. The pillow was soft, and she felt… comfortable. It wasn't for a few moments that her fuzzy mind cleared enough to remind her of what had just happened - or maybe what had she just dreamed.

Blinking, she sat up in bed, and looked around the room that was slowly becoming sadly familiar to her. She was alone - the room was quiet - and nothing seemed out of place.

She had given in to the castle and surrendered her humanity. And then woke up from a nap.

Puzzled, she looked down at her hands. They looked like her hands. No black fingernails - no claws… no pale skin. Slipping out of bed, she walked to the mirror and took a look at herself. Was she different? She couldn't tell. She turned to one side - she half expected a tail or wings. Nothing.

Huh.

Maybe she had dreamt it. Maybe she never stepped into that pool of blood, maybe she never accepted the darkness.

She studied her reflection, and looked for something monstrous in her mismatched eyes - something inhuman - but didn't find anything more than the usual, bi-colored, curse-of-her-life eyes staring back at her.

Did she feel different? 'We cannot take away your pain, but we can lessen it,' the castle had said. She puzzled on that for a moment, but didn't feel any great weight taken off her shoulders - today was the day she 'chose her king' - not to mention dealt with whatever Dracula meant with his foreboding statements on Shane, Sarah and Larissa. The thought that they were still alive and suffering somewhere in the castle while she was sleeping in a luxurious room made her heart twinge.

Maybe she had dreamt the visit to the castle's heart. Maybe she should -

It happened so quickly she didn't even register what had happened until it was too late. She felt a tremor - she felt… _something_ approach - a mind - something powerful. It was coming at her quickly. She whirled, threw up her hand - and grabbed hold of that mind as it came up behind her and… well, froze it.

Apparently literally.

Oh god.

She stared at the frozen block of ice - containing a figure with now very angry glowing red eyes. … Dracula. She had reached into his mind, and taken control of his reality and frozen him solid. Her reaction was not completely without reason - as the vampire King had his hand on his sword hilt, and was halfway through the action of unsheathing it when she had taken control of him.

Wait.

She had caught him?!

Cheshire was still completely in shock - trying to reason her way through what had just happened, and why there was now the Lord of Darkness in her room, frozen to the floor - well, in his reality he was frozen to the floor - in the real world, which to her had the illusion laid over it like a transparency (as she only saw it with her white eye,) he was just standing perfectly still. But to him, the ice felt no less real than it would have if it were actually there.

And he looked _angry._

She felt his will struggling under her control - and knew he was trying to power through her illusion. It wouldn't be long before it broke. "I'm… I'm.. I'm sorry," she stammered. "You startled me, I didn't… I didn't mean to-"

Cheshire took a step around him, and backed away from him towards the door, keeping, for what it was worth, an escape path available to her - she laughed at herself. Where the hell would she run?!

Cheshire took a deep breath and cut her losses, and… let him go.

Dracula hissed air in through his teeth, his hand gripped his sword hilt and he pulled it from the sheath - and turned towards her. He was so goddamn quick. Cheshire barely had time to back up, slamming into the wall before the sword tip was placed against her throat, his red eyes glaring down at her, full of fury - real fury.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" she half-squeaked. "I didn't mean to - I didn't - you startled me, and I…. I just..-"

"How?!" he snarled. "How did you remove the cuff?!"

Cheshire looked at him - absolutely dumbfounded. "Wh-" then it hit her. That stupid silver bracelet. That stupid enchanted 'leash' that kept him watching over her power… it would have prevented her from controlling him - even if she had been strong enough to do so, which was another reason why this whole scene should have been impossible.

With her mind rattling around and attempting to gain traction, she lifted her wrist, dumbly, and found that silver cuff was… gone. Completely missing. "I… I… don't… I don't know..? I didn't…?"

Dracula pressed the sword tip harder against her throat - and the blade seemed to flare with tendrils of dark power - reacting to his anger. She pressed further against the wall and cried: "I didn't!"

"Where were you?!" he snarled. "I lost sight of you. Where did you go?! What has that warlock done?!"

"The warlock didn't do anything! I wasn't with him - I was… I… The castle brought me to see it."

Dracula's rage wavered for a brief instant, but came back full force. "You are lying."

Cheshire winced at the deadly point now digging into her neck. "I'm not, I swear! The castle - I was - I was wishing I had someone to talk to, someone to help me think through all this, and I… I walked out the door, and I was in some long hallway, then there was a room with a mural and a pool of blood…"

Dracula lowered the sword slowly away from her throat, but Cheshire felt no less stuck to the wall - not with the way he was glaring at her.

"We spoke, and I.." Cheshire trailed off. Time froze. He wasn't going to ask for more, and she was loathe to give it to him. But she didn't have a choice. "It must have taken the bracelet away when - I - well - I stepped into the blood."

Well, now Cheshire had the answer to one of life's greatest questions. One of the things she had always wondered, and wished she'd never find out. Now she knew.

'What does it feel like to be stabbed?'

Her hands wrapped around the sword blade that was now sticking unnaturally out of her stomach. Pain, white-hot and sharp, ripped through her and washed away all other thoughts. Dracula, in half an instant, had driven his sword straight through her upper stomach, and dug the blade into the wall behind her.

Cheshire stood in silence, as the pain caused blots of black and white appear in front of her eyes. She didn't make a noise until he yanked the sword free from her. Cheshire let out a small whimpering gasp as her knees were the first to succumb and she collapsed to the ground, one hand weakly holding herself up, the other holding on to the wound as if in a futile but instinctive attempt to hold everything inside where it should be.

Her hand felt hot - sticky - she knew from what, but couldn't look. She didn't want to see. She shut her eyes, and felt the floor come up to meet her head.

The room spun for a moment as pain continued to course through her - lighting her nerves on fire. And then… it… stopped. It simply stopped. The pain just…. ceased.

Was she dead…?

Cheshire opened her eyes - and - no - she probably wasn't dead. Had Dracula changed his mind and healed her…? Lifting her bloody hand from her ribs, she looked down and - there was no wound. Blood, but no wound. Cheshire's hand was trembling from shock and the aftermath of the pain.

Dracula sighed quietly in his throat.

His sigh reminded her that he was there and she should really be focusing on _that,_ not her suddenly missing wound, as he might be inclined to put it back. The blade was covered in blood from about halfway down to the tip - her blood. She watched dumbly as he sheathed it, and it disappeared as he did so.

"You surrendered to the castle," he said quietly. "As I did, many years ago. Your humanity is lost to you now."

He sounded… indifferent. Not happy, not sad, not… just matter-of-fact.

"You stabbed me to double-check?!" she snapped sharply.

He didn't respond, he might as well have not heard her.

Cheshire pulled herself up to her knees, and used the wall to stand - she felt… shockingly okay. The pain was gone. She was a little jittery - but who knows if that was nerves or not. "So I'm not human anymore… what am I then?" _Sticky and covered in blood,_ her mind answered her question.

"Not a vampire. Not human. Something else entirely," he responded. "We have many… unique conditions who call this place home."

She opened her mouth to speak, but was silenced as his hand suddenly snapped around her throat and squeezed - she could tell he was no longer afraid of breaking her, as his hand was a vice around her throat. Spots appeared again in her vision and part of her air-deprived brain wondered if she should just name the spots since she'd be seeing them so often.

"This changes nothing," he hissed. "You may have stopped lying to yourself about your true nature… but your allegiance must still be _proven._" Dracula released her and Cheshire wavered, but… didn't fall over. Her head cleared quicker than it should have - another 'benefit' of her new found 'inhumanity.' Dracula could whack her around harder, and she could get up faster. Great.

"Make yourself presentable. I will give you an hour," and he was gone in a swirl of blackness.

She took a few shaky steps to the bed before she slumped down on the end of it, looking down at her blood-stained linen coat and shirt. _What have I done?_ she asked herself - a familiar question she never really had the answer to.

**HELLO CUPCAKE!**

Cheshire screamed and jolted from sitting so fast she tripped on her own feet and toppled to the floor with an 'unf.'

**Whoops. Sorries.**

Linger. Hadn't seen _him_ in a while. Turning her head, she looked up at the gigantic looming black shadow that hung over her, with its toothy glowing grin and single, glowing red right eye. William's charming 'other half.'

It lifted a large shadowy claw and waved, grinning so wide it almost split off the shadowy nothingness that was its face - hidden under the black tattered hood that was only distinguishable from the rest of him by its ratty edges. It curled its tail around underneath itself.

Cheshire pushed herself back up to standing again - why was she always getting knocked over? Linger was already talking.

**It's your birthday, cupcake! I wish I had a cupcake. For. Your. Birthday. But I don't. Cuz. I couldn't find any. **

"It's okay," Cheshire said with a small chuckle. The black shadow of insanity was starting to be a welcome diversion. She was actually happy to see it - him - somehow. At least he wasn't stabbing her, choking her, or threatening her. "My birthday?"

**Your birthday! You're one of us now! Haappy birthday! **

"Oh, she responded with a weak smile. "Thank you," she responded.

**Uh oh. Yer sad. Why're you sad? It's your birthday, I mean, you **_**could cry **_**if you wanted to-**

Cheshire laughed, and stepped forward, and hugged the shadow. She wasn't quite sure why she did it, but she wanted to - and she needed a hug. She was shocked she didn't pass right through it - but it felt… squishy. Definitely there, but squishy.

**M'awwwwww….** Linger hugged her back, its giant claws comically over-sized to be hugging her. When she stepped back, he looked quite happy - as happy as a toothy glowing smile and a single glowing eye could look. **Weellll shucks.**

"Today I need to make a choice, Linger… and I don't know what to do.."

Linger blinked, and looked down and reached out a thin, pointed claw and tapped the necklace she wore. He ripped his claw back and waved it like he had just touched fire. **Ow ow ow! Ow. It has something to do with **_**that.**_ **What IS that?! It's weird. I want to touch it but it hurts. It pulls.**

"It's you. The rest of you - the - what you used to be - you used to be human, Linger. Or at least… As human as I am now, I suppose..."

**Reeeeeaaally? … PFft. How boring.**

Cheshire laughed and put her hand around the amulet and held it reflexively. It felt warm to her touch, but, it was probably her imagination.

"I have to choose between you - well - you and your other half - and Dracula… I could make you whole again, or… I could choose Dracula…"

**Stupid question, if you ask me, but, I guess… we're… We? **It pointed at the necklace. **We're biased? I haven't ever stabbed you for funsies. But I guess I could now!**

Cheshire blinked.

**But I won't! Because that's mean. And you're my cupcake! **

She looked up at the giant shadow - and realized that they were more connected - Linger and William - than she had realized. Of course they were, they were two halves of the same whole, and they were now only feet apart. But this giant shadow was beginning to take on some of William's personality. She knew Linger was protective of her… to the point of attempting to kill Zadock. But something about that stupid, childish phrase, struck a chord in her.

"Either way, Linger… I'm going to miss you…"

Linger's toothy smile split wider. **I ain't goin' nowhere. **He placed a giant shadowy claw on top of her head, and in a movement she could only interpret as endearment, began to rock her head from side to side, almost knocking her over in the process. **And you'll be fiiiiiine… You're a tough cookie- er… … Tough cupcake just sounds gross… **He tapped what she assumed was his chin with his other claw, the one still resting on her head, although he had stopped jerking her head side to side. **Eeeh whatever. **

Linger seemed to be… less insane, somehow. Something was changing in him. She wondered if it was the proximity to the necklace. **Whelp! Remember - I ain't got no body - but no body got me! **Linger cackled in laugher, poked the end of her nose with a claw, and then disappeared through the floor like he had been ripped offstage - and he was gone.

Cheshire sighed. She almost loathed the silence. Looking down at her bloody shirt, she gripped the edge of it, and made a 'blergh' noise as she slowly peeled it off her stomach. It was drying, and it was sticking, and it was disgusting.

And by the clock's quiet chiming from the table, she had about thirty minutes before she had to choose. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath, and knew that this rollercoaster ride she was on was only going to get worse before it got better.

* * *

_It feels right to dress like an idiot today_ \- Cheshire thought as she looked at herself in the mirror. _I mean, I'm 'one of them' now, right…?_ sighed audibly. She really did look like an idiot. Badass? Fine, but an idiot none-the-less.

She found, tucked in the wardrobe and carefully arranged, an outfit that she knew that someone - probably the castle - had put there for her, just for this occasion. It was a dark colored top, accented in white (likely a reference to her eye) that had sleeves with the shoulders removed. It was… low cut, but manageable. It had a black and white lace underbust corset with it, with stiff metal boning and laces up the back.

The low cut neckline showed off the Order's necklace - one she was really ready to get rid of, one way or another… but had to keep wearing for now. At least until she made her choice.

At least whoever put together her outfit had picked black pants. They were _leather_ pants, but at least it wasn't a dress. Knee high boots with white laces, black leather pants, and about six belts of different size silver chains and white decorative baubles.. She realized she was dressed in 'black and white,' and wondered if it was some sarcastic comment about her history with the Order and their stark outlook on things. Cheshire looked like she was going to a goth club. But it could be worse. At least she didn't look like a Renaissance Faire fetish model like half of the castle's residents.

She brushed her hair - still damp from her bath - and sighed. Five minutes to go - and she wondered if she could just jump out the window. No, now she couldn't even do _that._ She'd just hit the ground and wake up a minute later. It'd just hurt.

She let out a slow, wavering breath.

It was time.

She walked to the door, put her hand on the knob, and committing herself to at least the action of a decision, if not knowing her decision yet - twisted the knob, and stepped out into the hallway, and walked down the hall.

She didn't need to ask any of the residents where to go as she passed - skeletons or monsters or vampires who glanced at her warily as she walked by. She knew. Where else? The throne room.

It took her a moment to realize that there were more residents in the hallways than usual - and that they were huddled in doorways or down corners to… watch her. And they all looked… nervous. Did she scare them…? _You took down the entire castle, and you're not even human anymore. They know what you're capable of now… _Cheshire sighed again - and didn't know if their fear made her feel better, or worse.

She reached the gigantic ornate doors of the throne room, and looked at the two guards, who simply pushed the door open at her arrival. She hesitated for a second, before forcing her feet to go one in front of the other.

She had chosen darkness. She had come home. Now she needed to make her choice. Dracula, or William. The game had to end. This needed to end - she needed to choose - one way or another. One way or -

"Cheshire…?"

There, kneeling in the center of the floor - tied, back to back - lashed together, bruised, dirty, haggard and bleeding… Sarah and Shane.

* * *

Shame hit her like a bag of bricks. Harder than any backhand from Dracula. Harder than anything had hit her so far. It churned in her stomach and she almost staggered backwards from it like it had actually been a physical blow.

Sarah was looking at her, wide-eyed and in shock - Shane didn't even lift his head. The look on her face - shock, betrayal, confusion…

Her hand flew to her mouth as her attention turned to Shane. His right arm - his sword arm.. was… gone. Gone at the shoulder - torn loose - and the stump that remained looked ripped and burned.

She had hardly noticed the throne room was lined with people until she heard the mumble from the crowd - it seemed that the King's court turned out in droves to watch this little drama. Cheshire shut her eyes tightly, and tried to swallow back the tears that stung her eyes.

"You son of a bitch," she said, half under her breath. "You said you set them free…"

"I lied," Dracula responded flatly, the baritone of his voice carrying through the gilded, crowded hall. "Come forward."

Cheshire had to - she knew she did - but her mind was almost blank with all the turmoil going through her. She stepped forward, and it brought her closer to Shane and Sarah. She couldn't even bring herself to look at them - she knew she'd cry if she did. They were now only a foot away from her, sitting on the ground.

"Here is your choice. Kill them both, and you walk free. Kill one, and pledge your allegiance to me. The other will leave the castle and its ground safe and unharmed."

"Oh yes, like last time," she snapped bitterly. "You swore they would both go free - and now you bargain with the same tactic?!"

Dracula was silent from where he sat, bored on his throne, watching her with a detached coldness that was so familiar to her now. "It is the bargain none the less."

"And what if I kill neither?"

"You die. Then, they die."

Cheshire clenched her fists.

"Coward," she heard from beneath her. Shane. His voice was haggard, dry, broken. She cringed.

"Just kill us both and get it over with," he rasped out.

Cheshire looked down at him, and felt the tears sting her eyes. Great. More crying. Just what she needed. "I'm sorry, Shane… I'm so sorry they did this to you. I didn't know…"

"For what it's worth, I believe you," Shane raised his head weakly to look up at her - his face was laced with cuts and bruises - one eye was nearly swollen shut. He had suffered - greatly.

"Where is Larissa?" Cheshire asked, raising her head again.

"With her new master. She chose slavery over death," Dracula replied idly. "A freedom we offered both of these fools. They chose this."

"They didn't-" Cheshire started, then growled, knowing it would be useless to argue. "Never mind."

"Make your choice."

"Kill me, Cheshire," Shane rasped. "They've taken everything from me." She knew how true his statement was. They took his arm - they took the woman he loved - they took his father figure. They tortured him and defeated him. They took his pride.

"No, Shane!" Sarah cried, and struggled, kicking. "No!"

"I'll do it," Cheshire replied - half to Shane, half to Dracula. "But I do it on two conditions_," _she kept her fists clenched.

"I'll hear your conditions," Dracula said, almost sounding amused.

"I take Sarah to safety personally."

"No," Dracula replied simply.

"I'll do it."

Cheshire turned her head - Lyon stepped forward out from the shadows. She blinked. He continued to talk. "I will take her to the nearest human town - and deliver her to the church there. I will give her the means to get home," he said quietly. "Do you trust me to do this?" Cheshire nodded. "Do you find this acceptable?" Lyon asked Dracula.

"Very well," Dracula responded. "Go, now."

Cheshire let out a sigh of relief. At least he wouldn't make the girl watch her friend's death. Sarah cried, and began to scream, which turned into a broken sob as Lyon stepped forward, cut the cord that tied the two broken forms together, and picked up the girl.

"You traitor, you rotten piece of _trash!_" Sarah cried. "You'll pay - you'll pay for this!" Sarah screamed. Lyon placed a hand on the girl's head, and she slipped into unconsciousness.

"I'm sure I will," Cheshire replied, feeling the weight of her decision. She knew she needed to save the poor girl - but now… Now she had to make good on her promise. Or they'd both be dead.

Lyon cast her a glance that she would have thought of as one of kindness and a silent well wishing - and she smiled faintly back at him. She had a friend - one she could honestly trust - and that was something she valued greatly, even in this dark moment.

"My second condition," Cheshire said as Lyon carried the girl from the room and was gone. "I kill him my way."

"He dies, that was the stipulation. How you choose to do it is of no matter to me," Dracula said, sounding irritated and bored again.

Cheshire reached into Shane's mind - and suddenly, he was sitting on a stone bench in the courtyard of a monastery in front of a well-weathered statue of Mary. Shane looked down at his two hands - she had given him his arm again, and taken away his pain. In his illusion, she walked forward and sat down on the bench next to him, staring at the statue.

"You won't feel any pain," Cheshire said quietly.

"I don't care if I do," Shane replied, empty.

"Yoseph…" she began.

"Is dead," he finished.

"No-" she began, and sighed, not trying to crack a joke, but it seemed fitting. "Is _death._" It was a setup, Shane. All of this… was a setup to get me here. To have me join the castle and its people. I'm so sorry," she said quietly. "Could things have ever been different between us..?" she idly wondered. "Could we have ever been friends?"

"Maybe."

"I never… I never wanted this," she tried to keep her voice from trembling.

"This is what you are. A monster. You deserve to be here. You deserve to do this."

Cheshire winced and lowered her head.

"You deserve to serve Dracula."

And that was what made her choice. In the illusion - so that only Shane could hear, she spoke to him privately. It was a risk, but she couldn't let him die without the hope it might have stood for anything at all. "Whatever you say in response, they can hear." She paused. "I'm in a position to kill him now. I could either serve him, or set free another who wants Dracula dead and wishes to take his throne. I could see him dead - and see you all avenged."

Cheshire stood up and stepped in front of him - and in the real world, she did the same, stepping around to face the broken man, sitting on the floor. She met his eyes - and she saw in his eyes not the loathing she expected - but in some way, some hollow way, there was understanding. There was a strength there.

"Then do it," he responded.

Cheshire reached around her neck, in both reality and in illusion, and unclasped the necklace of the Order. The one that William had given her - and told her to place on someone to trade their life for his. This was all too convenient, all too easy - she knew some other hand had made this come to pass. But who - the castle? William's subtle influence? She didn't know.

She put the necklace around Shane's neck and clasped it behind his head. She still had to kill him, she knew - that was William's instructions. 'Give this to someone, and kill them.'

Shane let out a slow breath and shut his eyes, seemingly relieved to have a symbol of his faith again.

Cheshire, in reality, looked to one of the audience members gathered by the walls, and reached out her hand to them. "A knife, or dagger, if you would," she said quietly and only to the real world - keeping Shane oblivious. Someone she didn't know stepped forward and handed her an ornate dagger.

Turning back to Shane, she turned the blade over in her hand. It had to be done. It _had _to be.

"Shane.." she said quietly to him, in both worlds.

"Goodbye, Cheshire," he said quietly, sadly.

She put the dagger to his throat and slit it in one quick movement. He didn't react - in the illusion, she held him there, sitting peacefully in the courtyard of the place he was raised and train. Listening to the water in the fountain pouring into the basin below.

Shane's lifeblood mirrored the sound of the water as the blood poured forth from his throat - the crimson running down his chest and pooling around his knees.

The crowd murmured, and there were a few quiet laughs or some applause. "_All of you shut the hell up," _Cheshire snapped angrily at them - and the room quickly fell silent. Maybe she _did _command some fear. Maybe that _was_ a good thing.

She held Shane trapped in the illusion as she felt his mind fading away. He wouldn't feel pain - he wouldn't suffer any more. She would make sure of it. His body slumped to the ground, collapsing in a pool of his own blood, spilling crimson across the marble and gold floor. She didn't even bother to avoid it as the liquid pooled around her boots. She stepped away from the body, handed the dagger back to the silent onlooker, and turned her attention to the King of the castle.

"Are we done here?" she demanded. She felt… a fire in her. There was nothing left for Dracula to do - he had played his hand, and she had played hers. Her humanity was gone - and all ties she had to the human world were gone or lay dead at her feet. What was she now, she couldn't say.

His reply was simple. "Welcome home."

Cheshire turned on her heel and stormed from the massive hall. She was furious - angry - and wanted to go break something in private. She needed to scream, to cry, to let it all out. She had just… murdered Shane. Cheshire needed to let that process.

She stormed to her room, and threw the door open, and slammed it behind herself, resting her back against the door, and felt the emotions start to well up. She looked forward to just sobbing it out on the floor after she broke a few valuable objects.

Sadly she never got the opportunity.

She heard something shift - and she opened her eyes - expecting Zadock, or - whoever else - but… no.

A man stood by her dresser, holding a book in his hands - a tattered, weathered, stained book that she had rescued from a coffin and hidden behind her dresser. He was tall, lean, and was propped up against the dresser and had his legs crossed at the ankles. His gray houndstooth suit was carefully tailored to fit his angled form, and an emerald silk tie was tucked carefully into a black, double-breasted vest. His long blond hair was carefully pulled in a ponytail behind his head.

With a careful movement, one of his white-gloved hands delicately turned a page of the fragile book. His eyes lifted to hers - sharp, brilliant green eyes cut into a face she knew now she would never forget. His look seemed to lock her in place and she felt her breath catch in her throat.

He cocked a smile.

"Hello, cupcake."


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks so much for the wonderful reviews! A lot to resolve from the last chapter. :) Enjoy!**

* * *

"It is untoward for a gentleman to barge into a lady's chambers unannounced, but… as everyone else here seems to do so, I thought; when in Rome.."

He was talking - his voice was deep, a sharp tenor, and elegant. He placed the book gently down on the dresser and stood up fully. He took the white gloves from his hands, folded them, placed them in his coat pocket, and carefully adjusted the cuffs of his shirt. He was still talking as he moved. "In truth, the spell that brought me back was hidden within the book you found; hiding it here was an intelligent act on your part, but also returned me to this world within your rooms."

He lifted his gaze from the cuffs of his shirt and looked at her again, his brilliant green eyes meeting her mismatched ones. He took a single step towards her, but then paused - the look on his face was… it was almost nervous, somehow.

They stood there in silence, staring at eachother. She hadn't moved from her spot leaning against the door - and honestly couldn't seem to form a solid thought.

"Cheshire, please say something," he said quietly, barely above a whisper.

"William…?" was all she could get out of her now very dry throat.

He let out a breath he had apparently been holding. "I thought perhaps by the expression you wore that I still may not be the owner of a face. I… haven't… had the heart to check, myself. I do actually have a face, do I not…?"

"You do," she said - simple questions, simple answers. She could do simple right now. God knows there was too much 'complex' right now.

"Oh, good." William stood up to his full height, and smoothed down the front of his vest with both hands. He was tall - likely around six and a half feet. He was an imposing figure in his own right, if not as dramatic as the other denizens of the castle in his elegant, well-tailored and very dated suit. He took another step towards her, and stopped again. William watched her warily, as if checking to see if she would bolt - the way someone approaches a deer in the woods.

"Cheshire… Are you not pleased…?" His voice was quiet and gentle, again, as if he were talking to a wild animal.

She opened her mouth to speak, and she shut her mouth again, unable to form words still. Finally, she managed to come up with one and get it out. "Overwhelmed," was what she had come up with.

William nodded, looking askance and idly fiddled with what must have been the chain to a pocket watch, tucked into one of the pockets of his vest. "You did as I had asked you to - so you made your choice, then?"

"I did…"

"You'll help me destroy Dracula and rule this place?"

"I guess so," she said quietly, and pulled in a wavering breath - she hadn't really had the time to cope with what had happened or process it fully. William was looking at her, half curious and half nervous - and she realized she needed to give him more than that. She finally brought up the will to speak. "I couldn't take it anymore. He pushed me too far. He made me - well… I choose to... " She was babbling, so she stopped and started over. "I murdered Shane to save Sarah… Gave him your necklace."

"Oh, Ches," he said, looking at her with real empathy on his face. She was shocked by that. He took another step towards her and reached out - he very clearly wanted to touch her - but he lowered his hand, controlling the impulse.

"Did you take his soul?" she asked.

"Hm?" he looked confused for a second. "Oh. The Paladin? No… I took his life force - but I must be near a person to remove their soul. He has passed on to wherever it was he was destined to go… likely Heaven, I assume."

Cheshire felt at least one of the lumps in her throat ease on that, and shut her eyes for a moment.

"Do you fear me..?" he asked her suddenly. There was a direness there that struck her. Like in this moment, it was the most important thing in the world to him.

Cheshire looked at him again, and he stood there, rooted to the spot - but everything in his posture said he wanted to approach her. And yet, he kept his distance. Probably trying to be respectful, she thought. She watched him - and knew from the look on his face that her answer was really that imperative.

"I…" she thought about the question. Was she afraid of him? He was dangerous - and if the others were to be believed, more dangerous than anyone else here. And now, he had returned from the dead. A man she didn't really know, returned from the dead in who knows what condition. But William had never threatened her - never hurt her. She had been very fond of Linger, for all his trouble. "I don't think you'll hurt me," she said with a small shake of her head. "If you're… really you."

"I think I am," he responded thoughtfully. "Although… there are… gaps - pieces, I think, that went missing," he gestured towards his head and winced. "I… am… I was dead, Cheshire… Very dead, for a very long time. I… was a million broken shards of glass - and now I am a mirror glued back together." He lowered his head as his face contorted in pain, and he buried his head in both hands. "I am a man again, but the cracks are still there…"

He sounded so… forlorn. So alone. She stepped away from the door for the first time, and approached him. He comforted her so many times, she could return the favor. She took her hand and gently stroked his hair - and she heard him hiss in a breath through his teeth. IT occurred to her that he hadn't had any human interaction in - god knows how long - and he had just been dead. She couldn't even imagine what he felt - what this must be like.

She took his wrists in her hands, and he let her tentatively pull his hands away from his face. He looked at her, his expression unreadable. It was bursting every possible emotion and yet none at all. She squeezed his hands gently, released them, and then carefully wrapped her arms around his chest and hugged herself to him.

Cheshire could feel him gasp again - and he seemed afraid to touch her for a moment, before she could feel his arms circle around her, and hold her close. She felt his cheek rest on top of her head - he was far too tall to place it anywhere else.

He was warm - and he smelled like ancient books and old things - the way an antique store smells. Maybe a little musty, but not at all in an unpleasant way. Her grandfather had owned a leather chair that smelled like this, once.

They stood there in silence for who knows how long - with him holding on to her firmly enough that she knew he wouldn't let go for the world. "I dreamt of this," he said, his voice again barely above a whisper. There was so much emotion buried in those four words.

Yes, he had - so had she, when he visited her in her dreams. This man, this whoever-it-was, was her friend Linger and also her masked protector in her dreams. He was dangerous, but… he was linked to her now, and she to him. She had chosen to take his side.

One way or another.

He suddenly pulled in a sharp breath and backed away from her so quickly she almost lost her balance. "He knows," he stated sharply, his quiet demeanor broken. He stormed away from her, and began to pace along the length of the room, his hand to his forehead.

"Wh..what?" His mood had rocketed from one end to the other. It was very clear that… yeah - this guy still had a few cracks. God only knew how bad they were.

"He knows," William gestured, and then turned to her, his green eyes boring into hers again with an intensity that surprised her. "He set this up. He knew that if he pushed you too hard, you'd chose me. He knew that Shane was the perfect bait. It was too poetic. He knows my return is inevitable now." William groaned and began to pace again.

"It seemed too convenient, I thought maybe it… was the work of the castle - you're saying it was Dracula's plan - to use me to smoke you out?" Cheshire sighed. "Do you think he know's your back..?"

"No," William shook his head, still pacing the room with an energy that was making Cheshire nervous. He wasn't racing or moving too fast - but the intensity of it was almost palpable. "He has no way of knowing how long it would take me to return. I can hide from him - easily. That bastard has never been able to keep track of me, I'm shielded from him and everyone else in his little cesspool," he ground out bitterly.

Cheshire supposed she'd be bitter towards the person who killed her, too, if it ever wound out that way. Cheshire walked to the edge of the bed and sat down on it - his pacing was making her dizzy. "So you can hide, and he knows you'll show up eventually now so… What do we do…?"

"I don't know yet," William tapped his temple as he paced. "I will. I will soon. It will come to me. My mind isn't.. isn't… it's still… Why the hell did I call you cupcake all the time? What an odd endearment." He had pulled up in his pacing and turned on his heel to face her so quickly she actually jumped - his sudden shift from intense concentration to a benign, quizzical question was so abrupt that she almost missed the question entirely.

Cheshire smiled weakly and shrugged. "I have no idea."

"I have had no exposure to modern culture, to the passage of time, to - whatever these abysmal tunes are running through my head and all these childish phrases - and yet… I did,and, there they are. Through… through whatever I became, I have all these things jammed into my head now. I - please understand," William stammered, and walked over to her slowly. Cheshire tensed - but didn't retreat. He walked to the foot of the bed where she sat, and carefully kneeled down at her feet. William gently took her hands in his, and held them by her knees, looking earnestly up at her with a broken-hearted hopefulness that almost was too much for her.

"Please understand," William began again, quieter, "I was broken into pieces and scattered. Many unknowable smaller pieces, but roughly, I was split in half. Two large pieces - myself, and, myself, as the thing you knew as 'Linger,' and I… and I now must reconcile the parts back into some sort of… cognitive whole." He looked away, and was clearly struggling to find a way to describe it. "I can't remember much of it, but all that I do remember, conflicts. It's all… jumbled."

"It's okay," she said with a smile. She reached up one of her hands, and placed it gently on his cheek. William looked as though he almost crumbled at that, his eyes shutting - and his own hand lifted to cover hers and hold it there, as if he were afraid she would rethink the action. Cheshire continued after a pause. "I can't really understand what you're going through, but..." she didn't know how to finish. She didn't need to.

"It is… greatly appreciated…" William responded quietly, still not releasing her hand. "Cheshire," he began, leadingly.

"Yes..?"

"There is…. so very much I would like to say to you, but I think perhaps your day has been full of great enough trials." William pulled her hand from his cheek, and settled it down in her lap again. He stayed kneeling, but looked up at her with a much less vulnerable expression than before. "I also wish nothing more than to stay here, in your presence; but it seems you are oft prone to unexpected and unwelcome visitors. If I were here in your room and that rat Zadock appeared to torment you, a great many things would occur to which you would react quite negatively."

Cheshire couldn't help but chuckle darkly at the thought.

"I'd fucking paint the walls with him and sell it as modern art," William ground out, and squeezed her hands tighter - so hard it almost hurt. But he caught himself, and shook his head, and eased off. "Forgive me, I.."

"I met Linger. I get it. You're still figuring out where one part starts and the other ends," she said with a small smile. Cheshire was worried by his outburst - in her short, brief experience with the living man called William - he had been gentle, sad, forlorn, intense - and just there - in that moment - she saw the darkness. She saw what could be living behind his eyes. But she could think on it later - and her choice was made for now.

"Indeed," William responded with a small breath. "So I must go - I will carve out a place where no one can find me, and I will think on our next action. I will visit you… often… but no one must know I have returned - no one must suspect."

Cheshire nodded.

William stood, and pulled her up to standing as he did, but kept her hands in his, held in between them now. "There is one other thing I would do, before I depart," William lifted his head, and she saw the stoic, fearsome and noble warlock he must have once been in the Victorian age.

"What is it?"

"I could not make good on my desire before," William released one of her hands and lifted his own and gently placed his palm against her jaw - his thumb resting just underneath her earlobe. "As I had not the faculty. I hope you will forgive me."

Cheshire managed to get out a "Wh-"

William leaned down and his lips met hers suddenly - he didn't give her the spare second to pull her head away. His other hand curled around her lower back, and kept her balance for her as he pulled her closer to him - pressing her body to his and deepening the kiss. It was like being led in a dance - forceful, but not fighting her. Caught up, her eyes closed reflexively, and the hand that gently rested against her jaw slid back into her hair. It was passionate - heady - dizzying. Slowly, he broke the contact, and leaned his forehead against hers, allowing them both to breathe.

Blinking her eyes open again, William lifted his head, placed a gentle kiss against her forehead, and took a step back, clearly reluctantly. "I had dreamt of that, as well." He cocked the smile she saw earlier - it was almost a smirk. It wasn't cruel, but it had an amused arrogance to it now that she saw it twice. "And before you can slap me, or find the words to curse me, I believe I shall take my leave."

He took two paces backwards, folded one arm in front of himself, and bowed low. "Goodnight, my dear."

In a swirl of glowing lettering that disappeared as quickly as it arrived - he was gone. Cheshire slumped back down on the edge of the bed, and touched her lips. She wished she had a bottle of booze stashed somewhere in the room - because Christ, she needed a drink.

Letting herself fall back on the bed, she stared at the ceiling, and just… thought.

Her mind must have been more tired than she had realized - as it wasn't long before she had fallen asleep.

* * *

Well, she had found her bottle of booze. She had stolen a bottle of red wine from the kitchens - well, okay, fine, she asked, and was given one by a very overly helpful skeleton, along with two glasses. Cheshire had intended on drinking it alone - but the skeleton had given her a set of glasses, and now, it felt stupid to drink it by herself.

Where to go was the question, now.

Cheshire hadn't seen anything of anybody since the night before - it was nice to sleep undisturbed, no one haunting her or bursting into her rooms.

She let her feet lead - and found herself, half of her own accord and half accidentally, standing at the door to Lyon's church. Well, she owed him a thank you for his actions yesterday, bringing Sarah to safety, and he seemed as good an option as anyone.

Pushing the door open, she stepped through the crack and gently shut it behind her. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust to the dimness of the sanctuary - a few candles were lit along the edges, but for the most part, the place was empty and unlit. No sign of Lyon.

Cheshire walked down the aisle, and stepped into a pew close to the front row, but a seat or two back, and sat down. She had picked the spot because the end of the pew abbuted a column, so she could sit sideways, prop her legs up on the pew, and rest her back against the stone structure.

She put the bottle of wine and the glasses down on the floor next to her - she'd wait. She needed some time to think.

Her eyes strayed to the large metal sculpture of a cross-like structure, and thought of Shane. Her eyes stung briefly as tears threatened to form again over the Paladin she put to death. She grit her teeth and forced the regret and grief back down. The man had never been a friend to her - he had abandoned here in the Castle to die - and yet, she mourned him. He didn't deserve what he got.

Cheshire wondered if anything would have been different, if she knew that Shane and Sarah and Larissa were still within the castle, suffering. She told herself she would have fought harder, knowing other lives were on the line. More honestly, she probably would have ended up dying in an attempt to save them - which may or may not be a better fate than what had happened to her.

Cheshire had begun to feel different now. She was no longer afraid of the building - no longer afraid of the creatures that lived here. She wasn't a prisoner anymore. The overly-helpful skeleton had bowed to her, treated her like she was something important. After all, this was now her home.

That was a bizarre realization. It really finally sunk into her what she had done - she had declared that she belonged here. She was one of them. And now she was longer human. Cheshire ran her hand back through her dark brown, wavy hair and rested her head back against the stone, looking up at the arched ceiling and delicate painted frescos that ran the perimeter.

Cheshire felt better about the realization than she probably should have. Something in her kept nagging that she should feel more guilt, more shame for what she had decided to do. But it felt… right, somehow. Whether or not that was legitimate or it was the Castle's work whispering into her subconscious, she couldn't tell.

She could feel the castle now, almost constantly. It was like sitting next to a river or the ocean - the sound of the waves and the sound of the current were omnipresent, always in the back of her mind, but never overwhelming. Somehow, it was even comforting. She knew, somehow, that she could draw power from it - knew, somehow in her mind, that it was making her stronger.

It dawned on her again that she had taken over Dracula's mind yesterday. She shouldn't have been able to do that on so many levels. But she had… He would have broken her control in time, but for that moment, she could have done what she wanted with him.

Her mind returned to the mural painting in the heart of the castle, depicting the many creatures that called it home - was she one of them now? Was she painted up on that wall? She was home now, but the question remained - where in here did she belong?

There was a clear power structure. The King had his Lords who each owned their own territories - places of the castle that seemed to warp and change to suit their inhabitants. Once, she would have believed that the castle was simply what it was - and that the creatures found their suitable homes. But no, she now knew it was the other way around. Cheshire wondered if she could get her own wing of the castle - and chuckled in her throat at that. What the hell would she do with it, even if she did?

No, she doubted she was that far up the food chain. But, something had to be done about her privacy - or lack thereof - especially now with William on the loose. It was tricky, she realized. If she stormed up to Dracula and demanded a place for herself that was truly safe from everyone else, he'd know something was up. And the last person she wanted to talk to right now was the Master of the castle.

"Ah, I thought I heard someone," came a quiet voice from near her.

Cheshire turned, and smiled at Lyon. She reached down and picked up the bottle of wine from the floor, and held it up. "I need a drink, and I can't finish this solo." She reflected on the comment. "Well, I could, but I shouldn't."

"I accept your invitation," the statuesque vampire responded with a faint smile, and sat down in the pew in front of hers. He reached his hand out, and took the bottle from her. The cork had been removed and replaced halfway by the overly-helpful set of human remains. Cheshire handed him a glass, and blinked as he gestured for the other one as well. He pulled the cork, poured a glass, and handed to her, before pouring himself one. How gentlemanly, she observed. Well, when you're that old, it's probably second nature.

Lyon held up his glass in a silent toast, and she 'tinked' her glass against his with a quiet snicker.

Smirking, she took a sip. It was pretty good - probably would have been much better and far more impressive if she knew shit-all anything about wine.

Lyon was sitting sideways, his arm resting on the back of the pew, and he was studying her. Cheshire knew that he was trying to figure out what kind of state she was in or how upset she was. He probably expected some long-winded diatribe about Shane, or railing against Dracula. She decided to throw the vampire off his footing - mostly for fun, also because she really had… shockingly little on the two subjects to say. And besides, it was a very important question. "What the hell do you people do around here for fun?"

"Excuse me?"

"No, seriously," she sipped the wine again. "Say nobody's invading. Say you don't have any… pet humans running around, like me. What the hell do you do to pass the time?"

Lyon blinked, puzzled. "We all have our hobbies…"

"Please tell me you like… quilt or cross-stitch or something."

Lyon laughed once. "No. I garden."

Cheshire grinned wide again. "That's adorable."

"I am glad you think so," Lyon sipped the wine, and looked off. "But perhaps now you understand why we all took such interest in you. To everyone here, your melodrama was a diversion."

"Too bad it's over," she shrugged.

"Perhaps, perhaps not," Lyon looked at her thoughtfully again. Cheshire knew exactly what he meant - he meant William. But she wasn't going to give him anything, so she simply shrugged.

"All that remains for me is to figure out exactly where I fit into this menagerie of freaks."

"You seem much more yourself now, that is for certain."

Cheshire looked down at her glass of wine and thought that over for a moment. "I suppose so," she sipped it. "I'm not afraid anymore… or at least, not nearly as much."

"I am glad for it. I will be pleased to meet the 'real' you - one not crippled by terror, uncertainty and guilt."

"Haven't known that woman for a long time myself," she said quietly.

"Then here is to her return," Lyon raised his glass and drank, a faint smile on his face. Smirking, Cheshire did the same.

They sat in amiable, friendly silence for minute or so before she broke it. "Thank you," she said.

"Mm?"

"For bringing Sarah to safety."

"It was nothing. Dracula's choice was cruel enough, and I wished you to make it without the doubt at the back of your mind."

"But you didn't have to, and I appreciate it," she swirled the wine in her glass. She hadn't eaten anything today, and it probably was actually before noon if she had owned a damn clock - so already she could feel the warm fuzziness that she was looking for. "I would like to call you a friend, if you don't mind."

"I would be honored."

"I owe you one, regardless."

"Show me the sun again some day, and we will be even," he responded quietly, the faint smile still playing across his alabaster countenance - he so resembled the marble statues that lined his church hallways.

She picked up the bottle, refilled both their glasses, and put it back down. "So I need to find me some hobbies," she said with another small laugh. "Maybe I can try and hook up wireless around here somewhere - that'll be a project."

"Wireless…"

"Never mind."

"You seem to be coping well."

"I cope with sarcasm. And alcohol."

"Then you are well along your way to recovery."

Cheshire laughed. She laughed for a while - it wasn't even that funny. But she needed the release. She looked at him, smiling fondly at him. "I'll be alright, if there are people like you in the castle walls."

"Here you will find people of every sort, and every disposition."

They fell into silence again, before she broke it again. "No, so - I'm serious. What happens now? Do I just… go read a bunch of books, see if I can get satellite internet and go on with my life…? You all have… we-" she corrected herself. "We all have eternity here."

"It can be lonely, it can be dull," Lyon said thoughtfully after a pause. "And we fill it in whatever way we can. Sometimes, I wonder if we do not fill our lives with self-made conflict to amuse ourselves."

She knew he was referencing William again - and Dracula baiting Cheshire into releasing him. But, she wouldn't offer anything up. "I… Feel awful for what I had to do - for killing Shane… He didn't deserve to die. He didn't deserve what happened to him."

"His kind rarely die with the honor they so diligently seek."

Cheshire tapped her fingers on the back of the pew thoughtfully. "I doubt he'll be the last person I kill."

"You may be called upon to protect your new home. We all do, from time to time. I do not relish in the act of killing mortals such as many of your new compatriots - but I kill just the same."

Cheshire let out a breath, and turned the thought over in her head. This was her home. She would protect it - she knew she would, if called to do so - but that meant taking life. This is exactly why she needed the wine, and took another sip of it.

"This troubles you," Lyon observed.

"No, it troubles me that if I'm honest with myself, I would do what was necessary." Cheshire shook her head slightly. "Two days ago, that wasn't the case. I would have refused. Now I've changed my mind. I'm trying to figure out if that's really me changing my mind, or something else."

"This place cannot make you into something you are not. It can further corrupt what is already there - but cannot do anything to you that you would not naturally have done without a little more inspiration." Lyon shrugged and looked off, his eyes turning to the statues that lined the walls. "We are all what we are meant to be."

"I guess so," Cheshire replied thoughtfully, and sipped the wine again.

"You would defend your home, then," Lyon observed again. "But would you defend the master of the castle?"

"That," she said, "I have no clue on," she replied honestly.

"Are they not the same?"

"I don't know, you tell me," Cheshire chuckled. "I'm the newbie."

"To me, they are… similarly tied, but… still separate."

"I have no loyalty to Dracula," she said narrowly, and took another sip of the wine.

"Do you wish to see him fall?" Lyon asked.

"I don't hate him," she responded. She was the Queen of lies, after all - and half of lying was half-truths. She didn't hate him. But she wanted to see him fall. Or at least, she thought she did. From what she saw of William, he might not be in any condition to rule.

"Hm." Lyon didn't push the issue.

"I guess I just need to find my place here, and… it's going to take me a while to adjust," she said, shaking her head. "Of all the possible outcomes of my little adventure here, this one wasn't even on the list. Death, torture, mutilation, escape and a very slim chance of success were all on the list - not… joining the club."

Lyon chuckled quietly. "I understand your confusion. I felt the same, many years ago, when I was placed in the same position. And I had the additional crisis of faith… Where for you, I believe you are so spared."

Cheshire nodded and topped off their glasses again, and took another sip. "Yeah, that problem I don't have."

"Give it time."

"I have a lot of it now, don't I."

"You do."

They sat in silence for a long time again, each sipping the wine and lost in thought. Cheshire wondered why Lyon didn't flat out ask her about William - force her to give some sort of response. But she was glad he didn't. Cheshire was damn good at dodging, but she didn't want to get in the habit of lying to what was currently her only friend in the whole stupid place.

"Maybe I'll explore for a while," Cheshire broken the silence abruptly.

"That will certainly take up a great deal of time," Lyon commented. "I recommend against attempting to create a map. This place is… amorphous."

"I noticed," Cheshire snickered. "Yeah, but, it has… regions. Like, clear ones - they might not always link together the same way, and those regions change shape and size, but I've noticed that there are some real distinct personalities to this place. I think I'd like to find them all, and… try to sort them out."

Lyon sipped his wine, and didn't answer. Cheshire picked up the bottle and - found it almost empty. She poured the remainder into Lyon's glass. "You probably have a higher tolerance than I do anyway."

"Most certainly," Lyon said with a small smile.

Putting down the empty bottle with a small clink, she downed the rest of her wine. "I wonder how this is all going to turn out," she pondered idly. She meant it far more than just the exploration of the castle.

"As do we all," Lyon responded, clearly understanding her meaning.

Cheshire stood up from the pew, and Lyon reached out to take her empty glass, and she let him. "Thanks again. For… being a friend, and… being an ear."

"If there is anything I can do," Lyon began. "Please let me know."

Cheshire smiled at him. "I will."

Lyon stood up as well. "Enjoy your explorations."

"Yeah - it… it'll be interesting," she said, and walked out of the pew and turned towards the door. "See you later, Lyon."

"Indeed."

* * *

And so, she made good on her threat. She explored. Weeks went by without any sign of anyone, really - no Zadock, no Dracula, not even William. She would pop in and see Lyon when the loneliness was too much to bear, and then would return to walking the castle for another week or two on her own.

She learned a great deal about the way the building worked - and the way it thought. There was oftentimes no seeming rhyme or reason in the way that the building linked itself together, but she started to almost figure out the pattern as she went.

It was like studying an artist. Their paintings were always different, but the style, the stroke, and the subject matter oftentimes had a through-line. She began to be able to predict its structures, predict the way it thought about the way it would put itself together.

Ches also wished she could fly. It would make it a hell of a lot easier to get around. Stupid vampires and all their cool tricks.

It was over the course of those weeks that she slowly realized she had begun to change. Not outright - she never sprouted the tail she had worried over (although wings, wings now she might have accepted. Christ her feet hurt, walking everywhere.) But she felt… different now. The change she had expected after stepping into the pool of blood was slowly now beginning to be palpable. She should have expected it to be gradual. Or was it just simply her adjusting to her new home? She couldn't tell. The weird outfits she found in her wardrobe were no longer so comical, the never-fading darkness of the constant night seemed natural (now she could even tell the time of 'night' by the level of the moon,) and the various scenes of horror that she passed - of tormented, broken souls and screaming piles of bodies - began to become commonplace. Normal.

She had bumped into Duncan and Elizabeth one day as they were feeding the giant man-eating plant again. This time, Cheshire didn't argue about the man Duncan was dragging across the floor. The man was kicking, screaming, begging for his life - crying - pleading for mercy.

Cheshire watched the man and…. knew she should feel something. But didn't. That scared her - but she couldn't lie to herself anymore. The plant had to be fed - Duncan had been right that day she saw this scene unfold the first time.

"Cheshire, oh hello!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "How good to see you," the green-haired vampiress said with a smile.

Duncan turned his head, glared at her, and grunted.

"He's just still angry over what happened," Elizabeth waved her hand dismissively. "You look… You look good," the vampiress said honestly.

"Thanks," Cheshire said with a small smile. "And Duncan, I'm sorry for what happened. I never meant to wipe out the castle, I… had a breakdown," Cheshire tried to figure out how to explain it.

"It's alright, he just likes to be angry," Elizabeth shrugged. "It was fully understandable, now that I know what caused it." The vampiress shook her head. "That bastard Death has every ounce of everything coming to him."

Cheshire laughed.

"You seem so much more alive, now," Elizabeth stepped forward and hugged her suddenly - Cheshire blinked, stunned, and hugged her back. "I am glad to have another sister! I was so worried you would burn yourself out trying to fight it all."

Elizabeth stepped back, still smiling, and Cheshire returned it. "Thanks, I… I'm still trying to figure out where I belong in all this, now. But it's certainly less stress."

Elizabeth chuckled this time. "Oh, you'll find your way, everyone always does. Maybe you'll even find someone to spend your time with," the vampiress said with a coy glance over at the giant, grumpy werewolf. Duncan had just hefted the villager up and over his shoulder and Cheshire watched as the mountain of a man hurled the smaller man into the hungry tentacles of the plant. The man's screams were cut off suddenly as one of the green appendages wrapped itself around his face and silenced him.

"Wait," Cheshire blinked, and looked at Elizabeth. "Ooooh," she said as she put it together. "That… makes a whole lot of sense, now," she said with a snicker. Duncan and Elizabeth were a couple. It explained their constant fighting - and yet constantly being around each-other. That was adorable.

"Indeed," the jade-haired vampiress said, the smile still on her beautiful features. "Perhaps you and Zadock…"

Cheshire snorted. "No."

"Good," Elizabeth replied, her smile broadening. "Maybe the priest, then. It seems you two have become close. Lord only knows that man needs to get the stick out of his ass."

She laughed - and found herself really honestly enjoying Elizabeth's company. Duncan was standing off to one side now, pointedly ignoring him, leaning against the wall with his massive arms crossed.

"Unlikely - but he's a good friend. He's not so bad once you get to know him," Cheshire smiled. "He's stiff, but there's a personality there. He just has to have a few bottles of wine before it comes out."

"Hah!" Elizabeth exclaimed. "You've seen him drunk?!"

They were gossiping, she realized. Straight up, old school gossiping. It felt nice. "I have," Cheshire replied. "He forgets what language to speak, and then gets them all confused. It's hysterical."

"Ooh, I would pay to see that," Elizabeth reached out and put her hand on Cheshire's arm in a gesture of affection. "It is so wonderful to have you here," she added. "It's nice to have another woman around with some life in her. Everyone else here is so… severe."

"No kidding," Cheshire agreed.

Duncan grunted from where he stood against the wall. Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "Alright, alright." The vampiress turned her attention back to Cheshire. "We have to go. But it was wonderful to see you!"

"You too," Cheshire replied - and meant it.

She watched as the bizarre couple walked away into the twisted jungles of the overgrown greenhouse. Cheshire stayed, leaning up against a vine-covered column, and watched the giant man-eating plant devour its prey.

Cheshire watched more out of idle fascination than anything else, but began to reflect on her… newfound comfort in all of this. That man was now very likely dead but at the very least unconscious - she should have cared about his life. Should have objected like she had once before. But now, it felt… like the law of nature to her. Things ate. Things died. Things ate the things that died.

Don't blame the wolf for eating the sheep, Cheshire reflected. And everything and everyone in this building were just wolves of different sizes.

She turned on her heel to walk away and -

Walked into what might as well have been a brick wall.

She took a step back and grabbed her nose - that had hurt - and she looked up at… Ah, fuck.

"Hey," she said, over-casually, to the master of the castle.

Dracula looked down at her, devoid of emotion, his red eyes flickering in the dim light of the greenhouse.

"I have been following you," he stated, coldly.

"Two months of me wandering in circles. That must have been boring as shit, I'm sorry," Cheshire responded, not at all surprised by his statement. Of course he's been following you - probably stalking you, waiting for you to secret away and see William. Who, at this point, might have finished going crazy or gotten himself killed again…

Dracula's eyes narrowed by a fraction, and he stared down at her with the impenetrable, regal darkness that had terrified her so badly. Now, she was afraid of what he could do, but she wasn't… nearly so horrified.

"Time was once you would recoil away from me in fear," Dracula observed, reflecting on the same thought she was having.

"Don't take it as disrespect," Cheshire replied after a moment. It was true. Cheshire may not have liked Dracula. She may be angry for the things he did to her. But she she didn't hate him. And she respected him and his position. He was, after all, Dracula.

He didn't respond, and just watched her. She watched him back, and waited. And waited. And she said nothing. After all, he started this conversation. She wasn't going to keep it from getting awkward for his sake.

Dracula lashed out - so suddenly that she yelped. He grabbed her by the upper arm, and in a swirl of darkness - they were gone. When they reappeared, they were standing in his study.

Cheshire would have fallen over when they reappeared, if his hand weren't still clamped around her upper arm like a steel talon. "I-" Cheshire started, but never got to finish the statement.

Dracula had suddenly clamped his hand behind her head, yanked her towards him, and with no finesse or warning, sunk his teeth into her throat. Cheshire cried out again, startled and now in pain as his teeth pierced her skin. She felt him drink, and her mind went blank - it still hurt, this time, as he was still painfully clamped onto her.

She stood, frozen, her hands now weakly gripping his overcoat as he fed from her. He released her suddenly, and she staggered backwards, her hand going to her throat to cover the wound. Her head spun - and she felt lightheaded, but somehow managed to keep standing. She knew it was a temporary state of standing, though - and she wobbled to a chair by the wall and sunk into it, still holding her throat. "Ow," she complained. "The fuck was that for..?!"

She had her answer a second later, when Dracula was suddenly standing in front of her - and he grabbed her none-too-gently by the hair, and yanked her head back. Her mismatched eyes met his red ones - and she felt him try to take over her mind. Try to hypnotize her. He had done this before.

"Don't-" she started, and finished it in a growl as he pushed harder, trying to take control. She snarled and shut her eyes, but he shook her head hard enough that she opened her eyes again - he didn't even break his proverbial stride in trying to take over her mind.

Cheshire knew she could keep fighting him - knew she could keep resisting his control. But he would only either keep weakening her until she finally relented - or he would do something worse. "You could have just asked," she complained up at him and then relented, letting him into her mind.

"Hrm," Dracula responded thoughtfully, as he felt her surrender control.

Cheshire felt the pain from her throat fade - and felt herself sink into the fuzzy… nothingness that was being under his 'spell.' His hand that had been viciously gripping her hair released, and Dracula walked from her. There was no need to maintain eye contact now.

Dracula stood in front of the fireplace, his hands clasped behind his back, pale against the darkness of his overcoat. "Where is the warlock?" he demanded sternly.

"I don't know," she replied. Truth.

"When will he return?"

"I don't know," she replied. Half-truth. He had been gone since she saw him that first time, and Dracula wasn't specific about exactly what he was returning from.

"When was the last time you spoke to him?"

"Not since the day Shane died." Half-truth. Spoke to him before and after Shane died. He didn't specifically ask when.

Dracula went quiet for a moment, as he stood staring into the flames. "Did you attempt to release him?"

"I did." Truth. No harm in admitting it - and she couldn't directly lie now if she tried. Besides, she figured Dracula already knew.

"How?"

"The necklace I gave to Shane. William had put some sort of spell on it." Truth.

"So you wish to see me dead, and wish to see the warlock take the throne."

"I don't know." Truth. She really didn't. She didn't know William any more than she knew Dracula.

"But you attempted to return him from the dead." Dracula turned then from the fire, his red eyes shining brightly in the orange glow. She didn't respond to him. Hadn't been a question. "Why then, if not to defeat me?"

"I was really angry at you," Cheshire responded. Truth.

"Do you despise me, then?"

"No." Truth.

"Why not?"

"You're only doing what you have to do," she replied. It was true - she didn't hate him. He was only acting in his own interests - and she couldn't fault him for that. "I've stopped blaming the wolf for the death of the sheep," she added after a pause.

"We shall see about that," Dracula added, his expression changing for the first time - a small, sadistic smile grew on his face. "I am not yet convinced of your loyalty."

"What more do you want from me..? I murdered Shane."

"To spare the healer. If you were truly loyal you would have murdered them both without thought." He stepped towards her again.

"I can't be like that… I never will be."

Dracula stood in front of her now, and grabbed her by both shoulders and pulled her up to standing. In another swirl of darkness - they were gone again. This time it was another place she recognized - the front door of the Castle. Where her little adventure had begun with Larissa, Shane, Sarah and Yoseph. They were standing on a balcony that overlooked the stone courtyard between the door to the castle and the iron-wrought, massive fence that marked the separation between the stone and the forest.

There, standing in the courtyard, having pushed open the twenty foot tall, twisted iron fencing, was about a dozen or so members of the Order. She knew them clearly by the crosses emblazoned on their shining, glinting armor.

Dracula released her - both physically and mentally - she felt her mind snap back into her ownership. She also felt… fine. The dizziness from the blood loss was gone - touching her neck, she felt no wound. Oh right. She healed quicker now.

Cheshire walked up to the stone railing and looked down at - now she counted - fourteen men in full battle regalia, who were staring up at the large wooden door to the building with trepidation. She knew that feeling - it hadn't been so long ago she shared it.

"You really brought me here to kill them, didn't you," Cheshire said with a sigh. "You think I give two craps about them?"

"You would have, not long ago."

Cheshire put her hand on the stone railing, and watched the men as they discussed how best to break open the door. Just ask, you idiots, she thought to herself. "I guess I would have," she admitted. Not long ago, she knew she would have stood here, fighting, pleading, begging to not kill them all.

Now…

"Kill them," Dracula commanded. "And kill them personally. Spare one, and allow him to return to the mortal world with stories of what you have become."

Cheshire watched him for a moment, then turned her attention back to the men. She took hold of their minds, and created a new world for them.

Their new world looked remarkably like the old one - except for one small detail. It was hers now. Cheshire created the illusion of herself appearing, standing in front of the door, in one of her ridiculous modern-gothic outfits, and in a dramatic swirl of darkness. If she didn't get to teleport around the building like a badass, she could still pretend she did.

One of the men yelled, alerting the others to her sudden presence in front of the wooden door. They all turned, drew swords, and took stance. Those poor idiots had no idea how lost they already were. "Cheshire!" one of them yelled. He was garbed shinier than the rest - with large, golden, winged pauldrons on his shoulders. Their leader, she assumed. "The healer Sarah told us you had fallen to corruption. She told us you had agreed to murder the Paladin Shane. Did you do this?"

"I did," Cheshire responded. Both in the real world, and in the illusion. I'm sure Dracula would want her to narrate. "I'd explain why, but I doubt you care." In the illusion, she leaned back up against the large wooden door to the castle and crossed her legs at the ankles, and her arms across her chest, casually. Unimpressed.

"You monster," the leader declared. "We should have killed you when we had the chance, not let Yoseph convince us you had any hope! What has become of him and the sorceress?"

"The sorceress is somebody's pet now. I don't know whose. Yoseph was one of Dracula's creatures masquerading as one of you. He fooled us all." Cheshire responded.

"More lies from the Queen of Deception!" The man over-exclaimed. They were all so over-dramatic, it was kind of hysterical.

"Fine, whatever," the illusionary Cheshire pushed herself off from the door and began walking down the stairs towards them. "I've been ordered to kill you all."

"You kneel at the devil's feet now, do you?!" the leader swore at her, and took off his helmet specifically to spit on the ground as she approached.

"I serve no man," the fake Cheshire smirked idly, and stopped at the bottom of the stairs. "I serve the castle, and the castle alone." She said it as much for Dracula as she did for them. "And you are a threat to my home." She paused. "A lame threat, but a threat none the less."

"Demon whore," the leader snarled at her, and raised his sword. "You will fall!"

The illusionary Cheshire didn't move as the Paladin rushed forward, and swung his sword - straight through her. Like she wasn't there. Well, because she wasn't. The illusionary Cheshire looked up at the Paladin and cocked an eyebrow. "You really are dumb as a brick, aren't you?"

"Sorcery!" The paladin snarled and his gloves began to glow gold as he began to summon some sort of spell. He thought he was, anyway - in reality, the Paladin was now simply standing still, his sword still gripped in his hands. Cheshire let the man believe he was working his magic - and let him watch as he cast the spell - and nothing happened.

"God will not abandon me!" The paladin cried, and tried again - to the same result. "This cannot be!"

"Bunch of morons," she sighed. "I'm done talking. Make your peace," the illusionary Cheshire vanished in another swirl of dark energy. But, the real Cheshire - still standing on the balcony above, did not release their minds.

To the fourteen men below, the large iron fence began to twist and snap - the sound of rending metal and cracking bolts caught their attention. All of them whirled around to watch the metal fencing begin to come to life - rearing up like some kind of grotesque, twisted wave.

She didn't want to make it linger as much as she could. Cheshire wasn't enjoying this. She doubt she ever would - as this was very likely to happen again.

To her and the men below, the sound of snapping metal was deafening. It was like a large slab of metal had slammed against the stone floor all at once - and to them, it had. The illusionary fencing had grown, and shot straight bars of metal through each of the men, save one - who was impaled by the ankle.

Cheshire thought it was fitting, and almost wished she could share the sight with Dracula - the sight of the thirteen men, impaled straight through to the ground. The bars that skewered them ran through their heads, hearts, chests, anywhere that was vital. They all believed themselves to have died, and fairly instantly.

In the real world, Cheshire watched the men collapse to the ground - and she knew, as they lay, moaning and twitching in pain - that their hearts were stopping as their minds convinced them of their own death.

Only one man lay screaming, gripping his ankle with both hands, howling in pain as the fantasy of the metal pinned him to the stone.

Cheshire waited until she felt the minds of the thirteen men fade away - and knew that they were dead. She felt… nothing. She wondered if she should mourn for them, or herself.

Cheshire let the illusion fade away - and watched as the one still living man shot to his feet, his ankle no longer useless. He whirled around, surrounded by the bodies of his friends. He raced to one, and knelt, and checked for a pulse - and found none. Went to the next, and the same.

The illusionary Cheshire re-appeared, and the one survivor scrambled for his sword, and held it defensively between them. It was clear he was terrified. "They're dead," she stated. "They are all dead, simply because I convinced them they were. They believed my lies and their hearts stopped in their chests." The illusionary Cheshire smiled cruelly. "You live only to tell the others of what you saw. Run."

The man obeyed. His sword clattering to the ground, he turned tail, and bolted into the darkness of the forest.

The courtyard was silent. Cheshire let the illusion fade as the man vanished into the trees. "There isn't anything else you can do to me." Cheshire turned her mismatched eyes to look back to Dracula, who had stood silently throughout the ordeal. "Do you think if I hate you more, I'll find some magical way to bring William back? You're trying to use me to smoke him out, I know you are."

Dracula just watched her coldly, with no response of any kind.

"I don't know if, or when, or how he's coming back," Cheshire continued. And it was true, she didn't. It had been over two months since Shane's death - two months of her wandering the castle and learning her new home with no sign of the warlock. "I haven't heard from him since the day Shane died - and I don't even know how I could contact him, if I wanted to." Cheshire shook her head. "So trying to upset me to get him to come back so you can control how and when he returns… isn't going to work."

"Perhaps you are right," Dracula responded. "But I will not sacrifice any play for advantage that I may have. That man is dangerous - to you, to your new home."

"I'm sure he is," Cheshire turned her head back to look down at the men who lay dead beneath them.

"I do not play with words, child," Dracula half-growled, which made her turn her head to him again. "I do not remark on this lightly. He is more a threat to you than he is an ally."

"Testing my loyalty repeatedly by making me kill for you will not convince me of anything," Cheshire turned now fully towards him, turning her back on the corpses below.

"I was testing more than your loyalty," Dracula replied coldly. "I have watched you every waking moment in these past few months, and watched you descend into darkness. Now, I know for certain that if you are convinced to assist in overthrowing me in my throne-" Dracula stepped forward, his massive frame looming up over her. She tensed - he was still a dangerous threat, even if she didn't cower in fear anymore.

Dracula continued. "It would be to rule this place, and not see it destroyed. I will entertain a struggle for power as I have many, many times before." He took her by the throat then, but didn't squeeze down hard enough to cause her any real pain. "But I would destroy you where you stood if I believed you would see this place and all who dwell here sent into the void."

Cheshire watched him, her mismatched eyes flickering between each of his red ones. In an instant, he backed up, and vanished in an explosion of bats that caused her to duck reflexively. His message was clear. 'I'll play with you and your warlock for the throne, but if you try to burn down my house I'll end you,' was the gist as far as she could translate.

"Oh boy," was all she could think of to say to the silence. Cheshire stepped through the door to the balcony, and decided it was time to share another bottle of wine with the priest.


	19. Chapter 19

**This one is a VERY short chapter - I apologize. But the moment just felt right to have stand on its own. You'll see why. ;) More coming soon! Thank you again for the wonderful reviews!**

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The next day, Cheshire decided to go for another exploratory trip. Although she still loathed how tired her feet became at the end of the day, it was really her only hobby at the moment. Over the past two months, she was beginning to really… _feel_ like this place was natural to her. Her rooms, with the blue and silver decor, were beginning to feel oddly safe and comforting to her.

It was beginning to feel like home.

Cheshire had watched her reflection for a while that morning - trying to decipher if it really was still her in the mirror. As far as she could tell, it… was. There was no demon living inside her head making her do these things - making her kill those men and not regret it. Just her.

Everyone had believed her to be a monster. Here she was, proving them right. But, honestly, she no longer cared. It felt, now, like some weight had been lifted from her shoulders. She was who she was, now.

Rounding a corner and passing through a set of doors Cheshire abruptly found herself in the ballroom. The castle had many, _many _ballrooms. But this one… this one stuck out in her mind. Cheshire let out a sigh as she stepped forward into the room surrounded by darkened mirrors - its herringbone floor repeated for eternity in all directions through the dizzying reflection.

This was where they had 'met' Zadock for the first time, and where Shane abandoned her to the castle. As she walked through the room, she could almost see the reflection of herself in the glass, kneeling on the floor - exhausted, starving, and sobbing at the betrayal.

And now that man was dead. And she wandered the castle like a person mastering a hedge maze. Cheshire stopped in the center of the room, and watched her own reflection in the glass - what a difference there was, now. She had begun to look natural in these silly, black leather and silver modern gothic outfits - and she no longer shrank from the shadows.

Cheshire was damned, now - and for all intents and purposes, it felt right.

A hand landed on her shoulder, and Cheshire almost screamed. There was no reflection of anyone else in the glass - she whirled, and found herself standing face to face with the red-headed vampire himself.

"I was wondering where you got yourself off to," she said to him, none-too-friendly.

Zadock's sharp features split in a sharp smile as he took a step back, and bowed low at the waist. "I was instructed to leave you be. To let your homecoming happen on its own due course." He stood up, his orange eyes shining. "And now that has happened, I believe it is time to resume our little game."

"So you're here on your own accord?" Cheshire said, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course, now that the ban has been lifted from me, how could I resist?" He half-cooed at her. "You are now a true force to play with… I thought perhaps I could congratulate you _personally.._" he purred.

Cheshire rolled her eyes. "You're bait."

"Excuse me?"

Cheshire snickered and shook her head. "Dracula is using you for bait, you dumbass."

Zadock wrinkled his nose - he clearly didn't exactly know what 'dumbass' meant, but managed to catch the drift. "I am no one's bait."

"Yes, you are. Dracula knows that William would want you dead - _very _dead - if he had anything to say about it. So he told you to come harass me to draw him out. I'm not stupid, and I don't play games with you anymore."

"And where is your little savior?" Zadock sneered. "Nowhere to be found."

"I already gave this speech to your master," Cheshire narrowed her eyes. "I haven't seen or heard from him. As far as I know, his spell didn't work," she lied. But she was _damn good_ at lying. It was her old mocking title, after all - the Queen of Lies. "So what's your next step, Zadock?" Cheshire stepped towards him, threateningly. The redheaded vampire held his ground, although he looked as though this conversation was not going as he had planned. "What's the next pointless escalation to draw him out? Are you going to try and kill me? Maybe even worse, _rape_ me? See if he comes out to save me then?!" Cheshire laughed. This felt good - this felt right. "I would finally make good on my threat and have you peel your own face off with your fingernails if you even _think_ about touching me again."

"I see we are still bitter over that," Zadock replied quietly.

"No. I'm not," Cheshire looked up at his sharp features, no longer sneering down at her. "I'll forgive you everything you did before - but that doesn't mean I have to like you."

Zadock stood there, watching her features thoughtfully. "You truly have been reborn, haven't you. This new you is… something to behold."

"Don't like me as much when I'm not a plaything?" Cheshire raised an eyebrow.

"Oh, no, quite the opposite…" he said, his voice free of the cruelty that she expected.

Cheshire rolled her eyes again. "Great. Look, Zadock. I don't harbor any hate towards you. I don't want you dead, I made that clear even before my 'rebirth.' Maybe someday we can start over." Cheshire turned away from him and began walking through the ballroom to the exit. "Until then, you aren't my friend, you certainly _aren't_ my lover, and unless you plan on attacking me, I have nothing to say to you."

Cheshire heard a small gurgle from behind her, as she placed her hand on the doorknob of the exit. It was a strange noise - almost… wet sounding, like something… Like stepping into a puddle of deep mud. Cheshire blinked, turned - and felt all color drain from her face.

Zadock stood, staring at her - his orange eyes locked on her - sightlessly. Protruding through his chest was - something that didn't belong there - something that _really _didn't belong there. A something that was now soaked in blood and bits of bone and cartilage. An arm. A hand, to be specific.

William.

William had come up from behind and put his fist straight through the vampire's chest and tore Zadock's heart loose from its caging, and now held it squeezed in his blood-soaked, white-gloved hand on the other side. Zadock's chest looked burst, bits of bone, muscle and sinew curling from the wound as if William had hit him with an immense force. He probably had.

William placed his other hand on the vampire's shoulder - the warlock stood a good six inches taller than the thinner vampire - and began to push the vampire's body off of his arm. It made a horrible, sucking, 'shlorp' noise as he finished pulling his arm free from the… the corpse. Zadock's body collapsed to the ground, and William looked thoughtfully down at the heart in his hand. There was no hate, no rage on the man's face, like this was nothing at all more complicated than tying his shoes.

"Oh god," Cheshire murmured, but he didn't react - it was like she wasn't there. He looked studiously down at the heart in his hand, and Cheshire watched as his arm glowed with a white light.

She felt the crackle of power surge through the room like a wave. The blood on his arm evaporated - lifting into the air like steam - and the heart in his hand dissolved. He looked, in his tailored suit, as if nothing had happened. William lifted a hand out - and with his palm facing the bloody, oozing body on the ground - his palm glowed white… and something - some misty, almost invisible thing - lifted from the body and was pulled into William's hand.

Cheshire put her hand to her mouth as Zadock's body began to burn - consumed by flame from the inside-out, as she saw that other vampire (Lord Crendo, she thought his name had been,) burn away on their very first fight in the castle. Cheshire watched in horror as her long time tormentor's skin turned dark, cracked with reddish coal-like fire, and crumbled into ash. His sharp, elegant features that she knew so well turned inwards on themselves and fell apart like he was nothing more than a bad puppet of himself. And then, with a dismissive gesture of William's hand - that was gone, too - vanishing like it was blown away in an all-consuming wind.

Zadock was dead.

And William had taken his soul.

Cheshire heard another noise escape her throat - wasn't sure what it was, really - a cry, a gasp, she didn't know. Cheshire stood, a hand clasped over her mouth, looking at William in wide-eyed horror. No sign of Zadock was left for her to gawk at.

William lifted his head, finally turning to her. His stoic, darkened features suddenly broke into a gentle smile, and he reached his pristine gloved hand out to her. "Care to dance?"


	20. Chapter 20

**Thanks so much for the great reviews! Here we go again. :) **

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"What have you done..?"

"That is a silly question."

Cheshire had stood there, staring, agog and in shock, for who knows how long. William quickly realized she was in _no_ mood to take him up on his offer to dance, and now he stood, his hands clasped behind his back, looking regal and untouched in his tailored dark grey houndstooth suit. He waited for her to speak, in no rush at all.

"What have you done…" Cheshire finally repeated, letting out a groan and moving her hand from her mouth. She put her hands into her hair, and shook her head, still in shock. Zadock was dead - he seemed like such a constant annoyance to her, that it was hard to wrap her mind around his sudden - and now permanent - absence.

"I cannot believe," William began calmly, "That you did not know that this was _guaranteed_ to happen. So, I will presume," he spoke with the even, practiced candor of someone trained to use language to their benefit. "You are speaking of the inevitable fallout of Dracula's wrath. You see, I have a plan, finally and I-"

"You _killed_ him." Cheshire shook her head again, staring at the place where Zadock had just been. Emotions raced around in circles through her, and she couldn't grab on to a single one of them and name it.

"Mm," William let out a small sigh and stepped towards her slowly. Cheshire tensed up, and almost retreated - but kept her ground. "I see. Allow me to remind you that I vowed to kill him. On the night that I broke the barriers of _death itself_ to conjure up the strength to protect you - and you spared his life. Do you remember?"

Cheshire nodded weakly. Linger - the giant shadow that was half of William's mind - had tried to kill Zadock one night after the vampire had assaulted her. He had left Zadock a dying, broken mess in the center of the courtyard and she had found him - and had saved him out of compassion to his suffering.

"I vowed then, _I promised you,_ that I would kill him. I do not make light on my promises," William looked down at her, now standing in front of her, his bright emerald eyes dark in the dim light of the ballroom. "I _never_ make light of my promises..." his voice was as dark as his eyes. Cheshire knew this was the depth of him that she was now seeing - the predatory, dangerous man about which everyone had warned her. The sound of malice in his voice sent a chill up her spine.

William continued to speak. "I will take some more of our precious and limited time together to point out the simple fact I would have seen him suffer immensely and acutely for some great amount of time, but I did not. I killed him quickly - painlessly - and without trauma to him. He was spared even the _knowledge_ of his imminent death. And do you know why…?"

Cheshire shook her head no, mute, turning away from his face and staring at his matching emerald tie. His white glove hand gently lifted her chin to turn her face back up to him - she had to look up to see him, as he stood almost a solid foot taller than her.

"I spared him my wrath as I know you would not wish him - for some ungodly reason unknown to me that I will attribute to your _overwhelming_ sense of compassion - to be subject to the agony that I could inflict."

Zadock was dead. And Cheshire didn't know how to feel about that at all - she didn't like him, she didn't want him around her, but he was familiar - a known thing in a castle filled with unknowns.

Cheshire didn't respond to him as her thoughts whirled around in her head - trying to come to terms with the fact that the Warlock in front of her had just slaughtered a man that, for all his faults and all his harassment of her, was one of the few things she came to predict in the castle. And for all of it, his predictability had become a crutch for her, if not his 'friendship.'

William didn't allow her to finish her train of thought.

"That _rat_ was a threat to you - and he laid hands on you _many times. _So I do not understand your grief over his death. Unless," William's voice went, somehow, to a darker and colder place than it already was. Another chill rushed up her spine as he took another step to close the distance between them. She took half a step back as he bent down to move his head closer to hers, "I was incorrect in my assumptions and you _did_ enjoy his ministrations. Perhaps you _are_ the type of lady who likes to be _taken _after all…"

Cheshire hadn't realized what she had done until it was too late. The sound of her slap pierced the quiet room - and Williams head rocked to the side. She glared up at him, finding familiar shelter in her anger against the flurry of other un-nameable emotions that whirled through her at the death of the vampire.

William stood back up to his full height, and rubbed his cheek with his gloved hand. "I deserved that," William said with a faint smile. "Although it pulled you from your reverie, so, it was worth that much."

Cheshire grit her teeth, and took a step back away from him, as they were now standing terribly close. "I don't know what to say," she admitted. She was several paces away when she pulled up short at a sudden thought. It clicked then, in her mind, that they had bigger problems. "Oh god, Dracula-"

"Cannot see what happened," William interrupted. "He ceased his _endless_ stalking of you once you laid waste to those paladins. I must admit that his watching of you is the reason I have been notably absent from your presence," he sighed sadly. "And for that I apologize, but it was required. Dracula will know that Zadock has fallen. He will know that Zadock died in your company. But he will not know that I was to blame," William smiled a devious, sharp grin. "And that is where you must play your part, my Queen of Lies…"

"I don't-"

William stepped forward towards her, and in an instant had taken her hand in one of his, and lifted it to his shoulder - and taken her other hand and pulled it out to the side. His free hand rested on her side and he was how pulling her across the room in - in a dance. Cheshire had two options; one, she could trip and fall to the floor, or two, she could follow his lead. She let him push and pull her around the floor to music that she couldn't hear.

"It is simple," he said with a genuine smile - he was greatly enjoying himself as he lead her around the room in a waltz. "You must convince Dracula that Zadock attacked you, and as you said before, attempted to force himself upon you. So you made good on your threat to 'feed him his own fist,'" he sighed in fake sadness. "A sight I wish I could have seen, but, ah well."

He stopped the dance, and pulled her closer to him, and the hand that held hers out to the side was now resting on the back of her neck. He was looking down at her sincerely. "If you cannot do this, we are lost. I'll admit that this is rather pivotal to my plan, cupcake."

Cheshire looked up at him, her mismatched eyes flickering between his green ones. He had called her 'cupcake' again - the weird endearment that Linger would always throw at her. Somewhere, in the sharpened madness, darkness and cruelty that lived behind those emerald eyes, she knew was the gentleness she had relied on so heavily in Linger and in her masked protector.

A giant, dangerous wolf - that's what he was. A giant dangerous wolf in a world of dangerous wolves - and this one, for whatever reason, would attack anything around _but her._ For some reason, it had decided that around her, it was tame.

"You took his soul," she stated quietly, barely above a whisper.

"I did," William said without remorse. "I took it for my own gain. But, think on this - without that, he would have gone and burned in the fires of hell and suffered for all eternity. I gave him the peacefulness of the void. He does not suffer, as he no longer _is_. He is part of me, now." William smirked cruelly "So in a way, I did him a favor."

Cheshire rolled her eyes at that, and didn't argue with him. He was standing close to her, his hand resting on the back of her neck and her hip, and she… knew she should push him away, knew she should be more upset at the vampire's death. But William was right, in that she really shouldn't be shocked. The warlock had voiced his hatred of the vampire many times, and she sided with the warlock after all. She signed Zadock's death warrant just as much as William had carried it out. Cheshire shut her eyes tight and sighed.

What were her options? In many ways it wasn't even William or Dracula - it was William or Dracula _and_ his cohorts. Zadock included.

'_Don't blame the wolf for eating the sheep,' _she had not long ago agreed that the statement was a valid one. Cheshire wondered how many more of her 'friends' and newfound allies she would watch die at his hands.

"Spare Lyon, please, if you can," she said quietly.

"Mm? That priest?" William looked off for a moment, thoughtfully, seemingly caught off guard by her statement. "I do not see why not, unless he gets in my way… but he has been a friend to you, and for that I am grateful. Without his kindness you may have been lost to us all," William looked down at her with a gentle smile.

Cheshire nodded quietly, knowing that was as good as she was going to get. The hand that was at the back of her neck was now gently toying with her hair - the fingertips moving in small circles along the base of her skull, caressing her.

William leaned down and rested his forehead against hers. She could smell him again, of old books and ancient things - and she decided she enjoyed the scent. "I would like to kiss you," he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But I thought perhaps I would ask this time," he smiled gently again.

Cheshire had to choose. Not just about the kiss - but about William. She had to choose now - it was all or nothing. Whose side was she on? Dracula's, or his? William was courting her, she knew - that much was obvious in the way he looked at her. Something about that scared her, made her nervous - and yet… when she admitted it to herself, she enjoyed his touch.

Dracula or William.

Cheshire tried to think of a world where William wasn't there, where her shadowy warlock was dead. Where she had chosen Dracula and now lived - alone, with friendship but little more - and where she had betrayed her shadowy protector.

Or, she could chose the man in front of her. The one whose green eyes were looking into hers with immense patience and nervousness - of arrogant power and gentleness - of… fondness. She didn't want to say love - it was too soon for that. But maybe. Just maybe.

Cheshire placed her hands on either side of his face, just along his jaw, and leaned in, and kissed him.

* * *

It hadn't taken long - probably fifteen minutes after she and William had parted ways - for the summons to come - a large black bat-like creature had appeared to her in the hallway and told her that the master of the castle required her presence immediately.

She didn't need to guess what it was about.

Now that she knew that she could control - to a certain extent - how she moved about the castle, it wasn't so hard to get around. Doors were no longer a linear passageway from space to space, but could link up to anywhere she wanted with a thought. It was almost becoming reflexive to her, now - subconsciously knowing where she wanted to go, and opening a door and - there she was. She may not be able to fly or teleport like the vampires could, but, at least she didn't have to walk _all _the way to anywhere anymore.

She kept her head held high as she walked down the corridor that lead to the throne room doors. The two guards pushed it open as she approached, and she stepped in to the familiar dark crimson and marble room.

So many important things had happened to her in this throne room in the past six - eight? - months. Her first encounter with Dracula - murdering Shane - and now, one more moment to add to the list. Either she'd succeed, or she'd die.

She saw Dracula sitting on his throne, ever bored, ever in the shadows, ever the red eyes glinting out of the darkness. They were not alone - the walls were lined with people again, courtiers and generals, watching her with baited breath. She could hear a few murmurs from the crowd - likely due to the very purple and green bruise along her right jaw, close to her ear and across her cheek. It hurt as much as it looked like it did.

Cheshire had thought it over, before she parted ways with William - how she would need to play this off. How best to convince the King of the castle that she was the one who killed Zadock.

"Hit me," she had asked William.

"What?" he seemed honestly aghast.

"Punch me in the jaw. Make it count. I'll need a bruise that doesn't heal too quickly."

William blinked, shook his head. "No, thank you."

Cheshire sighed. "I need proof of Zadock's attack. Punch me."

William groaned low in his throat and pinched the bridge of his nose, shutting his eyes. He muttered something in what sounded like german - or latin, she wasn't sure. "Very well," he finally agreed.

"Good, just-"

William was smart in not having let her anticipate the blow. And he didn't go easy on her. Her vision blacked out for a moment, and she was suddenly on the floor, her face feeling like it was on fire. If she had been mortal still, she was positive her jaw would have been shattered.

William's arms were around her, and he was stroking her hair. "I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Ow," Cheshire groaned and touched her face where he had hit her. It burned to the touch. "Fuck," she hissed.

"You modern women and your language," William chuckled. "But I do believe it's warranted here. I don't… think that will fade any time soon," he had said with a sad sigh.

"Good," she had responded, before finally finding the ability to stand, relying heavily on William's support. _She was always relying on his support,_ she had realized. After mussing up her clothes and putting a few rips into her jacket, she was ready for her show.

Now, standing in the throne room, she just had to follow through with her plan. She _was_ the Queen of Lies, after all, wasn't she? Cheshire walked up closer to the throne, a look of worry and pain painted across her face (most of which was sincere,) she knelt down on one knee in front of the King of the castle, and bowed her head.

"You kneel at last," Dracula said, his deep voice carrying effortlessly through the room. "It only took the death of one of my favored generals."

"I'm sorry," Cheshire said, not lifting her head, staring at her shoe. "Zadock…. he… I had no choice."

Cheshire yelped as Dracula was suddenly in front of her in the blink of an eye, and had pulled her up to standing so quickly she almost fell over backwards. He had her by the chin, his fingers digging into the bruise painfully as he tilted her head to the side to get a closer look at the mark.

"You imply that _you_ murdered Zadock."

"I did," Cheshire said waveringly - it was hard to speak through the pain and with her head wrenched at such an angle. "I'm… I'm sorry," she stammered.

Dracula released her jaw and shoved her backwards. Cheshire managed to regain her balance and rubbed her jaw tenderly. "Tell me," Dracula demanded.

"The ballroom - I was exploring, as usual, and Zadock cornered me in the ballroom. He… tried to force himself on me." Cheshire looked down at the ground, and imagined to herself what it would have been like - it wasn't hard to picture. Zadock had forced himself on her many times. She blushed, even through the bruise. Picturing one of those moments and thinking about having to recant what had happened, brought a legitimate blush to her face, bruise and all.

Cheshire continued after a pause. "He swore he wouldn't ever stop - taking what he wanted from me - that I was his plaything now, and… I should get used to it, and learn to enjoy it." Cheshire's voice went dark, playing real rage at an imaginary incident. "I accused him of just… trying to draw the warlock out of hiding - and I told him it wouldn't work, the Warlock was dead and gone, and - Zadock replied that it mattered not, as he would take his prize either way…"

Dracula sighed and turned to walk back to his throne.

"I had no choice," Cheshire said quietly. "I didn't want to, but… if my choices were to either let him live and have him _rape_ me repeatedly or kill him…" she clenched her fists at her sides. "I'd rather be dead by your hands and know that the son of a bitch went before me."

Dracula sat back down on his throne and looked askance into the darkness thoughtfully. He spoke, after what seemed like eternity. "How did you kill him?"

"I made him see the sun," Cheshire replied quietly. "It appears my illusions of death _do in fact_ work on vampires..." Cheshire let herself see the horror of William holding Zadock's heart in his bloody, gloved hand. She let the image of Zadock burning up in front of her replay in front of her eyes, and she blanched, and turned her head away, shutting her eyes.

"It appears my castle has a new master of illusions," Dracula turned his red eyes back to hers. "Do not make killing my generals a habit," he growled.

Cheshire bowed low, and knew she was dismissed. She turned, and walked out of the throne room. She had made it halfway back to her rooms before she was interrupted by a gentle voice from behind her.

"That is quite the bruise," Lyon spoke.

Cheshire turned to look at him, and smiled weakly. "Yeah… feels like it. I hope it heals quick - it burns."

"I have never known Zadock to use such violence towards a woman," Lyon said, more thoughtful than accusatory.

"He tried to hypnotize me. It didn't work, so… he resorted to this, I guess," Cheshire gestured at the bruise. "To be honest I think Zadock was… so violent because he wanted to draw William out…"

"Which failed," Lyon was now standing near her, watching her with the stoic carved compassion of one of his many marble statues.

Cheshire sighed and shut her eyes, and nodded. Cheshire was a _very_ good liar, and she let tears sting the corner of her eyes. "He isn't here, Lyon… William is dead. He's gone. I thought I brought him back when I killed Shane but… something wasn't good enough. Something didn't work. If William wouldn't return to stop Zadock, I don't think he ever will…"

Lyon placed his hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. She let her legitimate guilt from lying to her friend show on her face - it would look like guilt for the vampire's death.

"Zadock should have known how dangerous a game he played," Lyon said with a small sigh. "You were right to defend yourself."

"Thanks," Cheshire said and shook her head. "I'd like to say I won't miss him, but, part of me will. In the same way you miss a schoolyard bully."

Lyon chuckled in his throat. "I have a similar sentiment. Get some rest, my friend, perhaps that will aid your injury."

Cheshire nodded, and turned to walk away. "Have a good night, Lyon."

"You as well, Queen of Lies."

Cheshire didn't let her steps falter - she didn't let his comment show in her gait at all. Lyon had _never_ called her that. Not once, not ever. That's when she was convinced more than a shadow of a doubt that the priest _knew._ That Lyon knew that William had returned and her story of how she had killed Zadock was a farce.

Passing through the doors to her rooms, she shut them behind her and let her composure crack for the first time.

"_Shit."_


	21. Chapter 21

**Hello all! **

**Wow... It's been a while. I'm so sorry I drifted away there - it took me (like William) a long time to figure out where I was going and how I was going to wind up this story. I'm warning you, it's going to get pretty darn dark after this chapter. I'm going to earn that M rating. :P**

**Thanks for your patience, and enjoy! **

* * *

"_What you're asking me to do…"_

"_It is cruel, I know… It is nearly beyond reason. You will despise me - very likely with permanent ramifications. What it guarantees you is suffering and misery, and what it places you at risk of is near immeasurable in scale of the damage it could render..."_

"_It's brilliant."_

* * *

Cheshire awoke suddenly with a 'snrf' as her alarm clock went off next to her head. Set to her Pandora station, it began singing at her, mocking her new awake state. '_Something's wrong when you regret things that haven't happened yet..' _the female voice crooned.

Swiping at her alarm clock, she slapped the 'off' button, and was relieved by the silence. Snuggling her head into her pillow, she enjoyed the warmth of the semi-sleep state she was in, as her mind wrestled to remember what she had been dreaming. Something important, some deep conversation… something dire, but it was gone now, lost to the world of sleep.

Along with…

Wait.

Her alarm clock?!

Lifting her head, she blinked quickly, trying to get her eyes to focus. Yes - there - sitting on… _her_ nightstand… was _her_ alarm clock. 10:31am, it blinked at her.

Ches slowly sat up, and blearily looked around… her loft. _Her_ loft. Not some… over-decorated, silver, black and blue room with elegant Louis the XIV style furniture… but… her loft. Six or seven carpeted stairs led down from the terrace her bed was on, to the familiar layout of her living room. This was her home.

Brick walls, decorated with paintings and in some cases, graffiti, were familiar to her. Her kitchen was off to the left, the open-floor layout being heavily industrial looking as, well, it was the top floor of an old factory.

This is where she lived. _Had _lived, she reminded herself. After the house burned down, after everyone died and she became the 'Queen of Lies,' and wreaked terror on anyone she thought fit, she had purchased an old mill factory and converted it to her needs.

She must still be dreaming, she decided. Looking at the clock, it now blinked 10:36am. Turning to look up at the large, slanted, foggy windows of her loft, it was pitch black outside. Nighttime.

Standing up, she looked down to find herself in her normal set of pajamas - an oversized shirt and black shorts. She scratched her head, and let out a breath. Someone was invading her dreams, it must be. She walked over to the sliding door that went to the balcony of _her home_, and slid it open.

Stepping out into the mid-morning midnight, she looked around and…

"This is absurd," she muttered.

It was the castle - the view from the balcony was the same as it was the night before - the same when it had been her black-silver-and-blue 'room.'

Stepping back inside, she slid the door shut behind her, and jogged down the stairs to the main level of her loft - walked barefoot across the familiar, heavily varnished old wood floor, and slid open the heavy metal door that opened up to the metal staircase down to the factory below.

And there it was. The factory. _Her_ factory. _Her_ home. This was become far too bizarre for her. Shaking her head, she quickly threw on a pair of _her_ sneakers left by the door and began winding down the iron catwalk grating towards the bottom floor. Taking her usual and familiar shortcut of hopping over the railing and landing on the catwalk one level below, she walked over to the door that lead into the main building, and unhooking the lock, swung it open and…

The castle hallway.

The one she had come to know so well.

It had no business attaching to the front door of her factory. Turning her head to look behind her - as if wondering if it would no longer be there - she flipped her gaze back and forth a few times, as if at any point she might wake up and it would snap back to 'normal.'

Factory. Ancient castle. Factory. Ancient castle. Factory. Ancient castle. She shut her eyes, count to ten, and shook her head hard, trying to 'shake loose' whatever stupidity had taken over. Opening her eyes and - no dice. Factory, ancient castle. Nary should the twain meet, and yet… there they were.

"Well, fuck," she muttered to herself.

Turning around, she began to climb the stairs back up towards her loft. Hopefully her coffee maker still worked - and God only knows it had been months since she had a cup of coffee. Nightmare, dream, or something else she didn't understand be damned, she needed caffeine.

She heard her alarm clock click on, the snooze having run its course - and echoing through the empty factory, filled with dusty ill-used equipment and machinery from its olden days as a factory mill. Radiohead faintly warbled down the stairs at her, '_I jumped in the river, what did I see? Black-eyed angels swam with me. A moon full of stars and astral cars, and all the figures I used to see.' _

She walked into her loft, slid the door shut behind her with its familiar metallic _thump_, and walked to the kitchen. '_All my lovers were there with me, All my past and futures. And we all went to heaven in a little row boat. There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt,'' _she pulled her favorite coffee mug from the hook by the sink, shoved it into the Keurig, stuck a pod in, and hit 'go' on the largest setting.

Placing her hands on the counter, she stretched forward and lowered her head, shutting her eyes. _What's happening,_ she plead to no one in particular inside her head. _What is this?!_ The smell of dark roast coffee filled the air as the Keurig growled and groaned through its cycle. '_There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt,' _Thom Yorke sang at her from her alarm clock.

She lifted her head, and, following her now-seemingly ludicrous morning routine, opened the fridge and… pulled out the creamer, put the appropriate amount in her mug, and, capping the creamer, put it back. She shut the door, and stared at her brushed-steel fridge for quite a while. '_There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt…'_

Her morning routine felt so alien. She had done this cycle a thousand times. Taking her coffee, the steam curling from the hot liquid into the cooler air, she went to go get dressed. She felt like she was moving through the motions, waiting for the other foot to drop - waiting for the punchline.

"I don't understand," she said aloud. She looked out the foggy windows of the factory loft out at the spires of the castle and its night sky beyond - reminding her that no, she was not home. She may be awake, but she was not truly home. She was nervous, tense - waiting for something to leap out at her at any moment, waiting for something to rip away her home and reveal to her it was some cruel joke. Putting the mug down by the entrance to her walk-in closet, she swung the door open and walked inside.

Her clothes. Nothing stupid, no leather pants, no nothing. Stripping down, she put on her own underwear for the first time in a _long time,_ slipped on a pair of black skinny jeans, knee high boots and a deep blue tank top. Pulling on her favorite jacket, black, military-esque with laces up on the back, she picked up her coffee and sipped it.

Stepping back out into her loft, she walked down the stairs and sat on her leather sofa, looking at her black-steel-pipe-and-old-wood furniture, a place that felt so… normal, so safe, and now seemed…

"What's happening…?" she quietly, and, if she admitted it, pitifully, asked the air.

As if on cue, there was a quiet knock on the door.

"Come in," she called. She didn't care who it was - anybody was comforting. Last she knew, William had killed Zadock, she had gone to sleep - and woken up… woken up here…

The door slid, hitching uncomfortably (which was common for people who didn't know _how_ to slide the old metal door. There was a trick to it.) It lurched, and finally slid open, and, looking like something out of a fever dream, Lyon stepped inside. He stood in her doorway for a moment, looking around - his brow creased slightly in thought - and then looked back at the troublesome metal door.

"Leave it, it's fine," she muttered into her coffee and took another sip. "It sticks."

He let go of the metal handle, and stepped inside her loft. He seemed hysterically out of place - the tall, blond priestly vampire in his perfect clothing with his perfect features - a marble statue inside a brick-and-mortar, old-wood-and-steel factory. "You have…. redecorated," he said quietly.

"I'm not sure if I'm awake," she said honestly, pulling her feet up onto the sofa, sipping her coffee. She realized she was being rude - manners somehow superseding the weirdness of the moment - made a small 'mmn' noise. "Do you want any coffee? Tea?"

Lyon was still slowly taking in his surroundings - his gaze following the small spiral staircase up into what she used as an office. It was like he had never seen anything like this place, which - she reminded herself - he probably hadn't. "I," he began quietly, "Will take some tea, yes… Plain."

Happy to have something to focus on, besides the fact that she was in _her_ home, now in the middle of the _castle_, she put down her coffee mug, and went about the familiar process of popping out the keurig pod, putting one in for tea, putting down her second-favorite mug, pressing down until it let out a satisfying 'pop,' and hit 'go.'

"This is your home," Lyon said from behind her.

"I'm awake, then?"

"I believe so, lest we are sharing a dream…"

"If I did this, and… I don't know if I did, I didn't do it on purpose," she said over her shoulder as the keurig began pouring out the stream of tea into the mug.

"Perhaps it is you coming to terms with this being your home… and making it… your home." Lyon had taken several steps into her living room, and was looking up at the large canvas that decorated one wall. The art was high-contrast, powerful colors against a stark black background. It was a 'gestural' piece - or at least that is what her friend who gave it to her said. It was modern art, which she didn't usually care for - but this fit her decor well. And it was free.

Lyon tilted his head slightly to one side. "This is art?"

"It was a gift," she said with a small laugh and walked to him with his mug, and handed it to him. He looked down at it, and turned the mug around slightly - peering down at the side of it, which proudly stated '_What do we want? COFFEE. When do we want it? I'LL FUCKING CUT YOU.' _He looked up at her with a thin arch of an eyebrow. "Also a gift," she said with a small chuckle. "Don't ask."

She went back to the sofa and collapsed onto it - sinking into the pillows and picking up her mug. "So… what… is all this?"

"The castle is a product of its residents," Lyon said, walking to large leather armchair near her and sat down in it, cautiously, as if he were not quite sure what he was sitting on.

_Right. Modern things. He's never seen anything like a lot of this,_ she thought with a smile.

"My church, for example… is mine. It was mine, long before I came here. It is changed, and has changed, as time continues… but it was not part of this castle before I arrived." He sipped the tea, still looking around at her home. Her alarm clock was still quietly playing music and had moved onto 'Crazy' by Gnarls Barkley. She wondered if it was being sarcastic at her, but she ignored it for now.

"Ah," she said, looking around her home. "I mean, I'm not going to complain, it's nice… but… it's… I didn't expect to wake up… here…"

"I can see how that would come as a surprise," he replied after a pause. "This was your home, then?"

"It was. After the fire that killed my friends, I bought a factory - I'd hold parties downstairs - sometimes a nightclub, sometimes I'd rent it out, sometimes it hosted important meetings between different cartels or other such sketchy top-end political dealings… whatever entertained me."

"You never speak about those days," Lyon said thoughtfully. "You have told me many times you cannot return to who you were, but nothing of what that precisely was."

Cheshire shrugged lightly - it didn't matter now, did it? She was back to what she was - or worse, who was to say. "I was a valuable service to black market individuals. Smugglers, drug runners, people who traded in secrets - people who wanted to be sure they got elected, or wanted to make sure their candidate got elected - didn't matter. I was the 'great equalizer.' Nobody dared pulled guns when they didn't know for sure who they were pointing at," she said with a faint smile. "And if they needed someone removed, I could make sure it happened and that they'd get away scott-free. Nobody blames a heart attack on their business rival," she said with a small smirk. "I was for hire. And I had fun. I turned this place into a nightclub sometimes because it entertained me, no other reason…" She took in a breath, and, not sure why she admitted it, finished the thought. "Well. Not true. I was lonely."

Lyon nodded once, thoughtfully, looking up at the 'gestural' art piece on the wall - really not much more than a bunch of paint splatters across a black canvas. But still, she liked it. "I understand."

Cheshire snorted quietly. "I don't think you understood half the words I said," she said with a playful grin at him.

"Perhaps not," Lyon conceded. "But the inspiration behind the words, I certainly comprehend. Most particularly the loneliness."

They sat there in silence for a moment, before Cheshire finally had the nerve to talk. "Lyon… why did you come here? Did you have any idea that I had… eh… 'redecorated' as you put it?"

"No, I did not know. I came to speak about yesterday," Lyon said quietly, his voice growing heavier. And she knew why. Cheshire winced, and looked out the foggy windows at the castle on the other side. "I came to speak about Zadock's death."

She shut her eyes, and rubbed her hand across her forehead. "Lyon…"

"I know you did not kill him, and I know he did not attack you as you claim," Lyon interjected. "And, I can promise you, so does Dracula."

She sat there in silence for a moment, before letting out a small breath. "I know."

"It was the warlock, was it not?"

Cheshire opened her eyes, and looked back out at the moon, bright against the black sky, hazy against the fogged window. "Yeah," she admitted quietly.

Lyon let out a long sigh. "Did you have anything to do with his death?"

Cheshire shook her head slightly. "I witnessed it. I helped 'cover it up' - whatever good that did… Zadock approached me, tried to… I don't know what, he never got a chance. Six sentences in, and William showed up out of nowhere…" She looked back at the priest. "I shouldn't be telling you this… It puts you in danger."

"I can fend for myself," he said with a faint smile. "Then why are you telling me? I do not believe you are the type who cannot maintain a lie."

Cheshire laughed - short, sharp - he was goading her, and it was a valid tease. "Yeah, I deserve that." She sipped her coffee again. "Because, I think, you're the only person in this castle who hasn't tried to use me for their own agenda. Or at least not one I've ever picked up on."

"Dracula suspects. Indeed, has likely more proof than I."

"I know," Cheshire sighed. "I don't like being in this situation," she admitted. "I don't want to pick sides, I don't want revenge, I just want to go home."

"It seems home came to you."

She let that sink in, looking aimlessly at the brick wall of her loft. "Yeah," she finally admitted. "So it did…"

"I wonder when others will move into your wing… and what creatures you might attract," Lyon pondered aloud. "All of the others, myself included - tend to attract… monsters that suit their surroundings. I wonder what kind of shades and monsters you might dream up in your illusions…"

Cheshire chuckled. "Don't get me too drunk, you might find out."

Ches jolted suddenly as she felt his hand on her wrist. She looked over at the priest - he rarely touched her. He was looking at her intently, his pale eyes intense. "Cheshire, please be careful…" he said direly, his voice half-pleading. "I have grown fond of your company… I do not wish to see you lost."

Cheshire swallowed, and had to look away from the intensity of his stare. He removed his hand, and she shut her eyes again. "I'll try. I think I'm caught up in something I can't control."

"Then you must gain control, if you are to survive it…"

Cheshire nodded weakly again, and stood up. She needed another cup of coffee. Now that she had it again - she realized how much she missed it. She also realized, deep down - that this.. Was comfortable.

"What should I do?" she asked him. His was the only council she trusted.

"What is your goal?" he asked.

"I… don't know. It was… it was freedom. But now… this feels… more like home than I've felt in a long time," she stared down at the keurig as it dutifully started gurgling out another cup. "I spent seven years in the prison of the Order, atoning for who I was… And now, I… Lyon, to be honest… I don't know who or what I am anymore."

"I suggest you take time to figure that out… Step away from the game these two men play, and recuse yourself of their antics. William needs you for his goals - and if you opt not to help him, he cannot challenge the King. Dracula has been patient with you - I do not know of any reason he would not continue to do so."

Cheshire sighed, and shut her eyes. "William's been a friend to me… He's… he cares."

"As do I. As does Dracula, in his own strange way."

Cheshire lowered her head and rested her forehead against the kitchen cabinet. "You're sure Dracula suspects that William killed Zadock."

"I am sure of it."

Cheshire groaned. "Either way… whether or not I decide to keep helping William, I should head that off at the pass."

"Perhaps. But you cannot walk the road between for much longer - you will be torn asunder if you continue to chose neither."

"But for now, do you think I should speak to Dracula in private..?" Cheshire looked down at the steaming cup of coffee. "Confess what happened... "

"Likely so," Lyon agreed, and looked back up at the paint splatters. "I do not understand this… piece… of… art…"

"You're trying too hard," she patted him on the shoulder as she passed him on the way to the kitchen. "Lyon?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Her pandora station had moved on to Amy Winehouse - and she had to smile faintly. Yes. Her alarm clock was mocking her.

"For what?" He did not look away from the art piece, but moved his head slightly in her direction.

"Everything. Being my friend, for all your help for.. Being you."

Lyon faintly smiled at that, a bare twist of his marble lips. "And you the same, for I." He stood up finally, his tall frame, dated demeanor still looking comically out of place against her urban backdrop. "Now… I must go - I am glad to see you are… well. Be careful, my friend," he urged.

Cheshire only smiled weakly at him, and nodded her head. He walked to the metal sliding door, and exited - and she watched as he yanked, yanked again, and then used his unnatural strength to _slam_ it shut.

Cheshire had to laugh.

* * *

She could do this. She had to do it. And yet... Lordy, she was scared. Facing the wrath of Dracula still terrified her - that man was still overwhelming, even with her having 'changed.'

Dracula suspected anyway - and if she came to him in private, maybe she could avoid being eviscerated. … Maybe. She had promised to help William - and she would - but she was the one out in the open.

Pulling the door at the bottom of the factory open, she walked outside, did the lock on the door - _wait - how did Lyon get inside? _She thought to herself quizzically. _Oh right. Vampire. Mist. They don't walk anywhere._ She shook her head and smirked.

Three steps down the hallway, and she stopped - wait. This wasn't… normal.

This wasn't the castle.

The sun shone outside - she was… she turned back around - there was her warehouse door. She turned back around - she was… in… a victorian sitting room.

The painted wallpaper showed a garden scene, resplendent in peacocks and greek architecture. A large piano sat up against one wall, and paintings hung on the wall of long-dead individuals, looking austere in all their faded and cracked oil. The sun… _the sun_ shone in through the windows.

"What the…"

She didn't have much time to think before she found herself rocketed across the room - the floor whipped past her as she smashed into a large oak bookcase with a force that made her wonder how she didn't go straight through it. Books rained down on top of her - a large volume conked her on the back of the head and she groaned. She didn't take damage as easy as she used to - but that didn't mean she didn't feel pain. Her head was reeling, as she tried to pick herself up off the floor.

Someone did it for her - a hand grabbed her around the throat, and hefted her up to her feet, slamming her against the bookcase. Her head bounced off the edge of the shelf, and she saw stars.

"Wh-"

Her head rocked to one side as something - someone - hit her violently across the jaw.

"I did not pull my punch _this time,_ my little _cupcake.."_

"William..?" she said in a choked breath, turning her head towards the angry looming figure over her - his hand still clenched tightly around her throat.

"So soon you betray me… So soon you _turn your back on me!" _he howled.

"What…?" she gagged.

"I know where you were bound - I heard your conversation with the _priest - _ now you go to Dracula, to tell him that I walk alive! After your _word_ that you would keep my appearance a secret!"

"No - but -" Cheshire gasped as he clenched harder.

"_Enough!" _he snarled and slammed her head against the wall again. Her vision spun. "You will learn the price of your _betrayal,_ my dear…"

Her head was reeling, the world began to tilt as her vision began to sink down through a tunnel. She struggled to grasp hold of his mind - but it was like grasping at smoke. She couldn't focus enough to - enough to even breathe - she…

"You will learn… And I will be _more than happy to teach..._"


	22. Chapter 22

**OK guys. This gets VERY M rated. NC / hypnotism sex, violence, etc. If you want to skip it, go to the end - I'll summarize. Otherwise, enjoy. ;)**

* * *

It seemed Cheshire was continuously doomed to waking up to surprises - some good, and some bad. And then there were some like these, where she wished she could squeeze her eyes shut, and will them to be a lie. That somehow, if she tried hard enough, she could change the reality around her.

The aching pain around her throat and the searing pain in her shoulders told her otherwise - and kept nagging her from any hope she had of willing herself back into unconsciousness.

"Ah, you're awake."

His voice - which she was used to hearing now, had changed. It was no longer gentle, no longer friendly, soothing or adoring… It was cold. Worse than that - it was _cruel_. That woke her up faster than the burning in her shoulders.

Cheshire lifted her head slowly - it felt like it was stuffed with cotton - and winced in pain as she did. Her neck was incredibly stiff - and her shoulders felt like they were on fire. So did her wrists. She let out a small cry in her throat as she struggled to move - and she realized why her arms hurt so much.

She was hanging by them. She was nearly vertical - her entire weight was hanging from her wrists over her head, spread wider than her shoulders.

Cheshire felt _very _late to the party of 'what the hell is happening' - and she blearily tried to clear her head. Looking up, iron cuffs were clasped tightly around her wrists, biting into the skin - she could see faint dried bits of blood on her arms where the sharp metal had cut deeper into the skin. The chains on the cuffs ran a few inches to a metal bar, which ran crosswise to her left and right, about ten feet long - and ran into solid granite posts on either side from her. The pain had been her hanging from her shoulders as dead weight for God knows how long.

"Nngh," she groaned as she forced her feet under herself and lifted her weight up onto them experimentally - and hissed in pain as the release of the pressure on her shoulders somehow hurt even worse. She almost gagged as the pain made her see spots in her vision and for a second she thought she was going to black out. But, for better or worse, the pain lessened enough for her to swallow down the contents of her stomach.

"I would pretend I'm not enjoying this, but… you are the expert liar of the two of us and I fear you would see through my facade."

"William," she said quietly, testing her voice - hoarse - and her throat burned. Why? Oh… right.. She remembered now - flashes and images of him looming over her, with his hand wrapped around her neck, crushing the air out of her. "What.."

"I vowed to never hurt you. And yet, it seemed only _fair_ that as you broke your promise, I would break mine…"

He was behind her - and she craned her head weakly to see where he was - he was at a table that stood about five feet away from her, arranging… implements of some sort. A book sat near him, open - and at the wrong angle for her to see what it was. She tried to twist, but the short lengths of chain wouldn't let her turn. She turned her head back forward, as it was too painful to strain her head around to him. When she turned her head back forward, the room threatened to keep going and she shut her eyes for a moment to try and refocus her vision.

After the rollercoaster settled down, she opened her eyes again and tried to take stock of where she was. The floor was stone - or very old packed dirt, she couldn't tell. There was writing on it in white paint - archaic symbols and words in languages she didn't understand. Magic. She stood in what she assumed to be the center of a circle, transcribed with letters, shapes, and overlapping triangles.

It almost looked like the writing on the floor were somehow glowing - just out of the corner of her eye it looked like it was faintly there like a glow-in-the-dark paint… but she knew better. The room was dimly lit with candles - dozens of them, scattered around the room and looking well used.

She realized she was barefoot - and felt the bits of stone and debris under her feet as she turned her attention downwards and studied the oddly-glowing circle once more.

She shifted on her feet, and felt something next to her. Looking down to her right - there was a metal table. Maybe 3' x 3' square, and reminded her of a veterinary table… except for the groove in the metal that ran down to a drain in the center. The center drain looked caked around the edges with rust, and, she could only assume… blood. The drain ran down into a container underneath, and seemed stained with a similar substance. A serrated knife sat casually on the top of the table that made her stomach twist violently. Cheshire forced herself to look away.

The walls of the chamber - just barely visible in the candlelight - revealed flickers of giant stone granite blocks, roughly hewn. Painted symbols decorated the walls all the same, and she could see bookshelves, lined with rolled up papers, jars and books, strange objects she could barely see. The light caught the occasional glint of metal objects hanging along the walls.

"Where am I..?" she asked.

"My home," he responded from behind her, and she heard the clink of metal on metal. "I can move between dimensions as easily as you can move through doors. I created this small dimension as my own personal respite."

"That's why Dracula can't find you," she coughed.

"Indeed," he responded coldly. "Unless he were given the inspiration to start looking… If I had let you succeed in _betraying me._"

"I wasn't-"

"I will not hear excuses," he cut her off angrily.

"Please, William, I-"

"And no more of your _useless_ whining," William ground out cruelly. She heard him approach her on the brick floor, his wingtip shoes clicking on the stone as he walked. Her head snapped back violently as he grabbed her hair and yanked it to tilt her head back. She cried out in pain as she looked up at his sharp features - and cold green eyes. "I am not gagging you - _for now -_ as I think I would like to hear you scream… Do not make me change my mind."

She tried to reach into his mind and take control - tried to alter his reality - and… nothing happened. William only smiled faintly" "Do you think I wouldn't take precautions..? The circle at your feet keeps your power unusable. Your gift is truly unique, and in the 'wild' - it is unstoppable… and it is what I need to defeat Dracula.. But with some preparation, it is easily dampened." His green eyes were dark in the shadowy light. "Now tell me… were you, or were you not, on your way to speak to Dracula to inform him that I am alive and well, and that I killed Zadock?"

"He knows anyway, I was trying to protect-"

"Protect whom? Yourself?"

"You aren't there! You aren't subject to him if he decided to rip me apart - I had to keep making him think I was playing both sides!" she argued.

William laughed. "Perhaps. Perhaps that's true. Or, perhaps, your little priest convinced you to side with the vampire king."

"What?! No -"

"Do not lie to me, my pet…"

"I'm not!" he clenched her hair tighter, and she winced. "I swear I'm not, William - please-"

He leaned forward, and placed his head near hers, and she realised he was smelling her hair. He let out a low 'mmnh' in the back of his throat, and for a moment his grip on her hair tightened, and she winced in pain.

"Why won't you believe me?" she asked hopelessly.

"Tell me something…. If I were to hand you a blade - and told you to drive it into Dracula's cold, dead heart - if I told you to wipe him from this earth - and that I would rip his soul from his flesh and render him into _oblivion..." _he paused. "Into _pure_ nothingness…" He pulled her hair so that her face was turned away from him, and she felt his hot breath against her jawline as he leaned in. She could feel a few strands of his long blond hair brush against her face as he moved his lips closer to her ear and spoke, barely above a whisper, his voice resonating deep in his chest. "Would you do it..?"

"I don't know," she said, her voice sounding very small, and she shut her eyes tightly. "I don't want to kill if - if I don't have to.."

"Not even if it were Death, then..? Revenge for his lies? For the murder of your only friends…? What if I gave you his existence and you were given the chance to make him suffer, make him pay…?" He kissed her jaw, slowly, and she felt his other hand slowly run along her side, across her stomach, and pull her against him - just barely.

Cheshire was trembling, she couldn't help it - her shoulders burned in pain and the feeling of his lips on her skin was making her skin break out in goosebumps. "Stop," she pled quietly.

"No," he responded as simply. "I broke the barriers of death itself to protect you - to kill Zadock when I was nothing but a shattered memory of a man, and you showed compassion… And now, you cannot even tell me you would wish death upon those who have wronged you for your entire life… How am I to trust you? How am I to think that when it is most dire… you won't turn on me?"

"I won't, I-"

"More lies." He released her as suddenly as he had grabbed her, tossing her head forward and nearly knocking her off balance. She heard him walk away again. Tears stung her eyes - she started to feel the fear churn in her stomach.

"I should not be surprised, my little dove, as you are titled the queen of them."

'Little dove' - someone else used to call her that. She blinked. Zadock did - all the time. "What did you call me..?" she asked weakly.

He seemed to ignore her at first, and she heard a match - and a bright light glowed from behind her. She felt heat against her back - and she turned her head to see him lighting a large metal brazier - the fire whipped up high as the kindling lit. The light cast a stark, angled silhouette of his tall, sharp frame against the darkness.

"Something I don't believe I told you," he began after a long moment. "Is that when I absorb a soul - I take its power, yes, but that is not all. I also take the _knowledge - _and the _memories._ I once had a thousand minds, buzzing away within my own… and only my strength to keep them at bay," he laughed quietly as he jabbed at the fire with a poker. "Fathom for a moment what it must be like, to share a thousand memories within your own. Fathom what I have _sacrificed _for such a power to hold them at bay... That is what makes me so _horrible_ a threat, my dove. When I killed Zadock, I not only took his gifts - his strength - but I took every memory he ever had… I took every piece of knowledge… every sordid story, and every _intimate_ _detail…_" he heavily stressed the last word, and Cheshire felt a chill run down her spine.

"I saw… and I now possess… every moment that rat had with you… every time you moaned at his attentions, every time you _gave in_ to him.."

"Please," she let out quietly. "I didn't mean - I didn't have a choice.."

"Didn't you?"

It sounded like she was talking to a doctor - or a surgeon. His voice was cold, detached - empty. She had to turn her head back forward, the stiffness in her neck becoming too painful. Metal clinked against metal and she felt a twinge of panic in her throat. She had no idea what he was planning… but it was not good.

"Answer me," he hissed angrily. "You thought it several times yourself - you could have fought, you could have resisted - battled against them like Shane. But you didn't. You knew you wanted to give in. To the darkness - to the castle - to _Zadock - _to _Dracula - _Didn't you?!"

She winced at his anger, and shook her head. "I don't know..."

"Ah yes!" he exclaimed and she heard him throw something down onto his work table. "Your ever present battle cry. 'I don't know!'" he mocked her. Your treachery may be wrought by your _crippling indecision,_ but it is no less the same." He walked towards her again, and this time he circled around to her front, grabbed her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to face him. "You don't know where you belong. You don't know what you want. You want to be free, but given the chance of freedom - you _betray me for Dracula - _a creature who has done nothing but lie and manipulate you!"

Cheshire tried to turn her head away - but he wrenched it back to face her. She felt tears stinging her eyes again. This was all too much. "You wish to belong - to have friends, or family, or a _lover_ \- and given the chance, you cannot choose! You are _pathetic-_" he growled low, his voice becoming a cold, harsh whisper. "Your mewling, childish cavorting about a decision is infuriating and I will not embrace the void once more because you cannot decide between friend and foe."

He tilted her head back again, almost at a painful angle, and he lowered his head down to her ear - and whispered. "I can take from you whatever I want, my pet… I can do with you whatever I like… Where we are, no one can save you… No one can come for you… I would have had you by my side as my equal - my queen - my lover… But you betrayed me for a creature that manipulated you, tortured your so-called allies, and murdered your true friends… And yet you would betray me to him."

Cheshire couldn't take it anymore, and tears flowed from her eyes. Partially at his cruelty - partially because he was right. At her silence, he turned her head towards him and he suddenly kissed her - hard, and not giving her the ability to argue. She made a 'mff!' noise against his lips, and he only groaned slightly in response. He broke the kiss, and placed a hand on each side of her head, and rested his forehead against hers. His eyes were shut, and she was breathing heavily for air. For a moment, that was the only noise she heard.

"Tell me, right here right now, what you desire Cheshire - and it is yours," he said quietly - almost sounding desperate. "Tell me what you wish for…"

Cheshire remained quiet as her mind replied 'I don't know.' She was afraid to answer him, afraid to tell him what he already knew.

"Do you want _me_? Do you wish to rule the world?" he moved his head again, and placed a kiss against her jaw near her ear and kept speaking. "Retreat to an island alone? Raise a family? Become a crime lord? _Learn to paint?_ _What do you want?!_" snarled harshly into her ear.

Cheshire was trembling now, and couldn't answer. His grip on her neck tightened. "Say the words, and I'll release you - say the words and I'll bend all the universe and lay it at your feet…"

She let out a choked sob - and…. Couldn't come up with an answer. He released her chin, and tilted her face towards his. "Speak," he demanded.

"I've had that decision made for me - so many times - I… I've never been in control of my own path," Cheshire whispered.

"_Answer me," _he demanded. "This is your _last chance._"

"I- I- don't... " she stammered uselessly. She was so overwhelmed.

He broke her off with a kiss, using her confusion to deepen it, and he tilted his head to the side to kiss her passionately, his tongue slipping past her lips as he lazily explored her mouth. She was too overwhelmed to fight and too confused to reciprocate. She let out another 'nfff!' eventually, and tried to turn her head away.

He allowed it, and let her break the kiss, but did not withdraw from her. When he spoke again, his voice was as sharp and cold as the knife on the table next to her.

"If you say it, you forfeit yourself to me. You are nothing but _trash._ A toy for me to use and throw away as I see fit. Speak to me of what you want - tell me your desires in this world, and it is yours… Tell me you desire nothing… and you _are nothing. _Someone like that is only a pawn, and can never be trusted… Someone like that will always betray your trust... "

Cheshire squeezed her eyes shut, and let out a small sob in the back of her throat. She had no answer for him… God help her, confronted with it, she had no answer… She didn't know who she was anymore.

"So be it." She felt the cold air as he stepped away from her, and felt his hands leave her. She opened her eyes and looked at him hopelessly.

"William - please I-"

He raised his hand, and placed a single finger against her forehead. He began to speak, and she couldn't… couldn't grab on to the words. She heard the noises, but the words left her mind as soon as they had entered - and the more she tried to grab on to what he was saying, the worse it felt. She shuddered as something came over her, and she finally pulled her head away from his hand.

"William, let me down, you can't-"

"Ssh. Be quiet." he commanded. The command went straight to her soul - and she felt something… unnatural come over her. She tried to speak again - but… no words came out. She couldn't find them, couldn't find the will to speak.

Her eyes flew open wide in horror.

"Mmmm… Now you understand…" William reached up, and undid the cuffs around her wrists. "Do you think they called me 'warlock' for no reason?"

She pulled her arms down quickly and took a step back. But she didn't make it far.

"Stand still," he commanded - and again, despite her hands being free. She… couldn't… move. Her feet were frozen to the ground - and she couldn't even move her arms. She tried desperately to fight it - but there was a hard disconnect between her mind, and her body.

Cheshire willed every part of herself to run - every part of herself to break for the stairs she could faintly see in the darkness of the dimly-lit basement… But she could not.

"You are in my world now, my pet…" he stepped forward, reached out and gently ran his hand through her hair. She felt his nails scrape just barely against her scalp. "And you are forfeit to my power…"

Cheshire felt her breath quicken in fear - but even the words to beg him, the words to plead for him to stop, were denied her. He smirked cruelly at her, his eyes flickering with a sadistic joy. "Remove your shirt," he commanded.

She tried to demand her hands stop - tried to force them to stay still - but unbidden, her hands raised from her sides, grabbed the edge of her tanktop, and lifted it up over her head. She dropped it aside."

"Good girl," he cooed sarcastically at her. He stepped forward, and let his hands run along her shoulders slowly. "I have missed… _deeply missed_… my mortal form… my mortal body has its needs, and I once thought them to be an annoyance - a sign of weakness," he said, thoughtfully, as he ran his fingers down her shoulders, tracing along the top of her lacey, black bra, and she could see him almost shudder. Her pulse was racing in fear, her breath coming in quick, shallow breaths.

"Tell me something," he said - and she had a feeling she wouldn't be able to argue. "Do you find me attractive?"

"Yes," she responded, unbidden and matter-of-fact, and yet her voice still sounded small and afraid.

"Do you want me..?" he asked, and his hands now moved to her sides, his fingers grazing along her skin as his hands slid back up to her breasts, and he palmed them both, giving them an exploratory squeeze. He let out a low 'mmnh' in his throat as he did, and stepped closer to her.

She tried to fight the power he had over her. Tried to fight to keep her mouth shut. Tried to will herself to think about something, _anything_ else. Tried to yell 'puppies' or 'sofa' or anything random, anything but-

"... Yes…"

She squeezed her eyes shut, and felt her face flush in embarrassment. She heard him chuckle, and felt one of his hands leave her breast, run slowly up along her chest, trace her collarbone, and then cup her jaw in one hand. "Open your eyes," he said quietly. And so, she did.

He leaned in, his lips hovering barely away from hers, and she felt his hot breath across hers. She could smell him - like old books and old leather… "Kiss me," he commanded. "Show me that you want me…"

She leaned in, and followed his command. Her lips met his, and she felt her hands move up to his chest, and grip the front of his vest. His hand slid from her cheek to the back of her head, and tangled his hand in her hair, as he deepened the kiss - which now she returned as hungrily as he had began it.

After a long moment, he broke the contact, and pulled in a low, shuddering breath. He took a step back, separating them, and looked her over where she stood.

"Remove your pants," he said quietly, barely above a whisper.

She cringed - but could do nothing else as she unbuttoned her pants, and slowly slipped them down her legs. She tossed them aside with her top, and straightened back up - standing now before him in just her bra and panties.

William's eyes raked over her form, and she could see the heat in his sharp, green eyes. "It has been a very long time since I have been… allowed to enjoy the world as a man…" his lips twisted up in a cruel smirk, as he ran a hand along her side, across her stomach - causing her muscles to twitch and tighten as he ran his fingertips along her bare skin. "And I will thank you for 'allow me' the honors," he said sarcastically.

He tilted his head to one side as he watched her, and kept talking. "I saw what Zadock did to you - I know what you seem to enjoy... " his hand drifted higher, his fingertips grazing over the lace of her bra - and he ran his fingers underneath the lace edging of the top, slowly tracing its edge again. "If I had been whole enough in your dreams to seduce you, perhaps I would have done the same… it is hard to know."

William slowly walked around behind her - and ran his fingers along her shoulders - gently stroking her hair away from them, and leaned in, burying his face in her hair and letting both hands slowly run down over her shoulders, pushing her bra straps down off her skin, bit by bit. "I cannot blame the vampire, that is for certain… You are a fiery prize… too bad your spirit does not run as deep as I had thought… Ah well… I will still have my chance to enjoy you before I kill you…"

Her stomach flipped in fear - her breath still quick and shallow.

His hands slowly ran down her arms, and to her chest - cupping her breasts and pressing her back into his chest - she felt the strength of him behind her, the scent of old leather books and incense filling her head. He squeezed her breasts, none-too-gently, and groaned - which she felt the vibration of more than she heard. "I will take everything from you, do you understand…? First your body will be mine… then, your soul… and with that, your power. And only then will I let you die... "

One of his hands ran down her chest, palm flat against her skin, down across her stomach and behind her, and cupped one of her ass cheeks and squeezed - _hard - _and she let out a small noise of pain in her throat. He stopped, and began rubbing and kneading her ass slowly, soothing the pain he had caused.

Cheshire was trembling - almost shivering as he worked one breast in one hand, the other now slowly slipping up her side and around to her lower stomach. She felt his fingers delve slowly lower, slipping under the edge of her lace panties. She jolted, and tried to struggle. "No no, stand still," he cooed quietly into her ear like one would coax a deer, and she felt his lips along her jaw.

She felt his fingers delving deeper - creeping - taunting her with her helplessness. He found her hot core, and she felt his fingertips graze against her. She pulled in a gasp and a cry as he slipped his hand further down, and felt his fingers start to lazily explore her.

She jolted, squirmed in his grasp, and let out a whimper in her throat as William nuzzled his head closer to her neck. He laughed against her skin, and she felt his lips press against her neck, just under her ear. "You're wet," he muttered against her skin. "It seems you enjoy this yet still, don't you, my _little dove_.."

_Stop,_ her mind cried… but her mouth could not obey. _Run! _Her mind commanded - but her body couldn't follow.

His hand still lazily explored her, the hand at her breast slipped inside the cup of her bra and squeezed her flesh. She let out another small cry in her throat as he pinched her nipple and then began to roll it between his fingers. She shut her eyes, and her head fell back against his chest.

She thought she was going mad - that this all had to be some lucid dream or a feverish nightmare. She let out a small moan in the back of her throat as he continued to knead her breast mercilessly. His other hand suddenly slipped a finger inside of her - and she let out a startled cry, arching her back against his hand. He laughed again, and the hand against her breast moved to her neck and squeezed - pressing her back against him tighter.

Cheshire whimpered as his finger dove deeper, then back, then deeper again - pushing in and out of her slowly, tortuously - her mind spun, begging him to slow down - to stop - but no words would form. Again, and again, he slowly pushed his finger in and out of her. He kissed her earlobe.

"You tighten when I choke you, do you know that?" he asked her mockingly. "I think you enjoy it." To illustrate his point, he squeezed down harder around her throat for an instant, and dove a second finger into her hot core.

"Aahn!" she cried, as he held her body to his by the neck. She squirmed against him as his two fingers slowly plunged in and out of her body, the other holding her tight, allowing her only moments to breathe. She felt his hot tongue slowly slide along her chin to her ear, and felt his teeth bite down on her earlobe, hard enough to sting.

"Yes, my pet," he murmured softly into her ear. "Yes.. surrender to it, it will hurt so much less.."

She jolted as his thumb found her clit, rubbing her sensitive spot and sending a jab of pleasure through her unexpedly. He moved his mouth slowly to her jaw and kissed it again, slowly. This seemed to go on forever, her body struggling to control as his hand sent pangs of pleasure through her - unwanted as it might be.

As quickly as he had begun, he pulled his hand from her, and turned her around. She looked up at him - confused, dazed - trying to catch her breath - as he sneered down at her cruelly.

"Kneel," he commanded.

She tried to force herself to stay standing - tried to slap him - tried to do anything except watch helplessly like a bystander as her knees bent, and she lowered herself to the ground.

William chuckled over her, his hand now gently stroking her dark hair. "Aah… Dracula commanded you kneel, didn't he..? And you refused… yet here you are." She felt him tangle a piece of her hair around his fingers as he pondered aloud. "I wonder if he had the same intentions..."

Cheshire turned her head away from him - trying to ignore his apparent excitement showing through his pants. She squeezed her eyes shut as she heard him undo his belt, then his fly.

"Come now.. So shy..? This can't be your first time.." he said, half-mockingly. "You act like some little lady… but you modern women know the ways of men as well as the rest of us…"

Cheshire grit her teeth.

"I can force you, you know I can…"

She felt her hands clench at her sides.

"Look at me," he commanded.

She turned her head towards him, and looked up at him, and saw the heat in his eyes as he met her gaze. He smiled faintly, and slowly ran his hand to her chin and tilted her head back. He ran his finger slowly along her lips.

"One word from me, and you would be happily working away on me like a babe at a mother's breast… But I felt the heat in your core.. I felt you on my hand… you want me, as much as I want to feel you around me…"

Cheshire shuddered.

"Come now…. Let us enjoy this together…. Your life will not be long after this moment. Act under your own free will, and I will be gentler to you for it, I promise."

She shut her eyes tight for a moment, let out a small sob, and opened her eyes again to look up at him, pleadingly. "That's it," he coaxed. "Open your mouth," he said quietly - but did not command it. She didn't feel it drive to her core like it did before. He was giving her the choice.

"I can make it hurt," he said quietly, coldly. "I can take whatever I want… give it to me, and you spare yourself only pain… no dignity will be saved, I promise you…"

Tears flowed down her cheeks, and she struggled - again unable to decide. What was happening now was so far beyond reason - so far beyond anything she had ever tried to contemplate what she might do… And god help her, he made sense. God help her, she felt her body burning - felt the result of what he did to her - through the fear, through the threats… through everything, she felt the burning.

His hand that was stroking her hair was now gently running his hand through it, scraping his nails just barely against her skin. "I want you… I have wanted you for _so long,_" William said quietly, his voice heavy with heat. "You made me remember what it was like to be a whole man, back from the edge of madness… " William trailed off. "You have denied me your love… your loyalty…. Do not deny me your body, at least…"

Shutting her eyes, she let it happen. She let him in. She felt his hot, hard length press eagerly into her mouth, and she heard him groan over her - sounding like a man in a desert drinking of water for the first time in memory. "Yes," he moaned low. His hand pressed to the back of her head, and she felt him push her down further - urging her to take him deeper - past the point where she could breathe.

She let out a small 'ngh' noise as he pushed himself further down her throat and then back, exploring her. "That's it," he urged quietly. He throbbed in her mouth, and she was overcome with the scent of him - with the sensation of him pushing in and out of her throat, each time urging her deeper and deeper.

Her hands found their way to his thighs as he began to pump his length down her throat, groaning quietly overhead as he did. "By the gods…" he mumbled, his fingers twisting in her hair as he did. "Yes," he groaned.

He pulled out of her mouth for a moment and let her catch her breath before slowly pushing himself back in as deep as he could - then withdrew the whole way and repeated the motion - almost maddeningly slow. She learned quickly to pull in a full breath as he moved forward, and felt him push himself as far as he would go, and held it there, his hand on the back of her head holding him down to the hilt. She let out a 'mffh!' noise around him, as she felt her breath run thin. He only laughed. She struggled weakly, let out another startled noise, and still his grip didn't release. "Nngh… like that… struggle…" he growled over her.

Finally, when her lungs began to burn, he released her - and she pulled her head back, gasping for air, her body shaking, her mind lost in the lightheadedness. "You are beautiful…" he heard him groan from above her. He barely left her a moment to regain her senses before he took hold of her head in both hands.

He pushed himself into her mouth again, and began pumping his length slowly at first, then harder - and then with a low growl, began slamming himself down her throat to the hilt - once, twice - his hot length cutting off her air and then letting her breathe for a brief moment before cutting it off again. He let out a shuddering moan, his hand clenching tightly into her hair. He pulled himself away from her, leaving her gasping for air, sitting back on her ankles. This was all too much. "By the gods in hell - you.. Nearly ruined our fun too early.." he laughed quietly.

"Get up," he commanded. And she did - thankful at least for once that he was commanding her body, she probably wouldn't have been able to stand on her own otherwise. Her head was reeling, spinning in confusion.

She felt his hand at her lower back, and felt him press her against him - and felt his length against her stomach, throbbing against her skin. A low moan came from the back of her throat unbidden. He chuckled quietly.

A loud scrape of metal on stone, and she felt herself pushed backwards - and she landed on something hard, and metal. HIs table - he had pulled it closer with his power, and pushed her back on top of it. She was sitting on it now.

His hand slowly traced its way up her stomach, up against one breast. His other grabbed the knife next to her, and lifted it up, and ran the tip of the knife up her stomach. She shuddered and froze - he didn't have to tell her to hold still. He turned the knife over, dull side against her skin, and ran the center of it between her breasts, under her bra. WIth a hard _yank_ the knife tore through her bra, and it split open.

"Remove that," he commanded. She slipped the straps off her shoulders and tossed the useless piece of fabric aside. He pushed her backwards, and she went back down onto her elbows as he leaned down and his mouth met her nipple - and he wasted no time before digging his teeth into it.

Cheshire let out a moan - turning her head to one side as he tried to stifle it in her throat. He laughed against her skin. "Still you are shy… still you blush.. How adorable… Don't move," he commanded. His tongue slowly ran lazy circles around her nipple as other hand slipped the edge of the knife under one leg of her lace panties - and with the similar motion as before, tore straight through the delicate lace. He repeated the motion on the other side, and took the fabric in his hand and discarded it.

Cheshire was trembling - here she sat, propped up on her elbows, on the edge of a metal table - and he had already told her his intentions to kill her. But her head was spinning - either from his attentions or his power over her.

Cheshire whimpered again as he bit down her other nipple, squeezed her breast with his hand, and slowly kissed his way up her chest, up her neck, and to her chin. He kissed the corner of her mouth as he stepped forward, slowly parting her knees and standing in between her legs. He looked down at her - sharp green eyes meeting her mismatched ones - his hands settling onto her hips.

He paused - and then watched each other silently for a moment, before he leaned down and kissed her - this time tenderly, lacking the violent passion of before - his tongue slowly slipping past her lips as he kissed her deep - and then drove the length of himself into her core in one solid motion.

Cheshire cried against his lips in the shock of it - and her cry was matched with a loud, low groan. She arched her back, pressing her chest against his, feeling the fabric of his vest scratch against her skin. She felt his hot hard length inside of her- felt him fill her - felt him ram against her end without pity. The hands against her hips tightened, and she felt him pulse inside her.

He lowered his head to her shoulder, and she could feel him shake as he he reacted to the sensations flooding his body - he pulled back slowly, inch by inch, and then rammed back into her - hard. White hot pleasure flooded her mind, and drove out all cognitive thought.

Cheshire cried out again as he rammed against her - feeling the pressure of him as he filled her. "William," she moaned.

His lips met hers, and he kissed her with a fiery passion as he began to rhythmically pump himself against her. He pulled her legs around his waist - sliding her forward and knocking her from her elbows, laying her back flat against the table, and began in earnest.

Cheshire's mind scattered - absorbed only in the feeling as he filled her again, and again. She couldn't form any thought against the pleasure that was flooding her core. Everything in her burned - everything in her screamed for more. And he was too happy to oblige.

His hand snapped around her neck - and squeezed - hard enough to hurt, but not hard enough to cause real pain - and she arched her back up off the metal table. He laughed, throatily, "So you _do _like it," as he paced himself at a merciless tempo now, using one hand to pull her against him, the other to squeeze her throat. "So much time we've wasted…" he said through a moan.

She felt her pleasure growing - her body throbbing in time to his thrusts. Felt herself tighten around him - and suddenly, everything stopped. He pulled himself from her, and yanked her to standing. She stood there, breathlessly, head spinning, as he turned her around, her back to him - and pushed her forward.

Her arms hit the table as she stopped herself from falling. She heard him chuckle slightly, and felt his hands run slowly along her back. His palms ran along her skin, down along her ass, and squeezed both her ass cheeks roughly. She whimpered against his ministrations, and he only chuckled again. She jolted as he slapped her across the ass, and felt her skin burn with the impact… but she let out a low moan against clenched teeth.

"My oh my," he said, clearly very amused. She felt the sting of his hand across her ass again and she let out another moan, her hands gripping the edge of the metal table. "Oh, we have wasted _so much time.._" he said coyly, and laughed in his throat. "Beg me to continue… Or else I stop here, as much as it pains me…"

Cheshire chewed on her lip, and let out a small shudder. "Please," she let out quietly. "Please don't…"she took in a sharp breath. "Please don't stop…"

She let out a sharp cry as he drove himself back into her, stuffing himself hard against her end and causing her to arch her back against him, her eyes clenched shut. She felt his teeth on her shoulder as he bit her, then licked the skin where he marred it.

"I gave up my control of you quite a while ago… I hope you realize.." he laughed in his throat as he began again, harder than before, using the edge of the table for leverage as he trapped her body between him and the steel - pounding himself into her.

Cheshire felt the pleasure in her building again, her mind barely able to grasp his words. She let out a low moan as he continued, a small cry accentuating the harder impacts. He grabbed her hair with one hand and pulled - lifting her chest off the table. She hissed against the pain.

"Well now…" he huskily moaned into her ear. "What a girl you are…" He hissed in air through his teeth as he wrapped a hand around her hip and began yanking her hard against him. "Nnnh!" he cried.

Her mind was overcome with a hot flash of red hot pleasure as he drove himself into her - as her body tipped over the edge and she felt her climax rush over her. He, too, drove into her hard once, twice, let out a deep throaty moan and held her there.

He let go of her hair and let her lay back down on the table, and she felt him double over her - his forehead against her back, his breath coming quick and low. She felt his weight shift from her, and felt him withdraw from her - and place a kiss on her shoulder blade.

"It almost makes me sorry to do this… _almost…_"

Cheshire screamed - this time in pain - as she felt something sear into the flesh of her back.

* * *

**Non M Rated summary:**

**William is terribly angry at Cheshire for what he believes is her betraying him to Dracula. So, he reveals to her that he plans to kill her, but first has some OTHER plans in mind.**

**Hope you enjoyed - drop me a line! **


	23. Chapter 23

"_Tell me how this could pan out…"_

"_Either we succeed, and you may despise me until the end of time… Or we fail, and you will be broken and despise me all the more…"_

"_Then make sure I don't live through it."_

* * *

"Welcome back."

Cheshire felt something _rip_ \- something tear loose that must have been stuck. It was the first sensation she remembered, the tearing feeling. It felt kind of like trying to pull a spoon loose from some thick batter - only she was the batter. It took her a moment to realize that someone was screaming - a high-pitched, muffled, agonized scream. It took her another moment to realize that person _was her._

"Shhhh… Now now, take it easy…" a hand stroked her hair. "Slow breaths…"

She tried to follow the voice's instructions and took a slow breath - her head was reeling, her body was an array of aches, pains and horrible burns. Her jaw hurt - and as her mind grasped at the spiderwebs that was her reality, she realized her jaw was pried open - held open - her tongue was trapped under a gag that must be strapped around her head.

She was lying on something smooth and flat - her face was on its side, and she felt the smooth surface under her cheek.

Her eyes managed to focus, and she tried to move her hands and heard the clink of chain - and only managed to move them an inch or two. She tried to move her legs and… same result.

"You've been in and out of consciousness since we started," the voice over her said. William. She let out a small muffled whimper as the pain started to flood back into her mind. "I gagged you so you wouldn't choke on your own tongue again."

Her back - something was wrong with her back. It felt like it was _literally_ on fire. She let out a sob at the stinging pain.

"We're almost done," he said casually. She lifted her head and tried to look to her back to see what the source of the pain was - and could only see red on her arm - blood. She assumed it was hers. William was barely in her line of sight, and she watched as he walked towards the large lit brazier of fire, pulled a metal implement out of the flame, and walked back to her.

"MmnHhh!" she screamed uselessly against the gag, and struggled just the same.

"Yes, yes." he said with a casual, dismissive air. "I know." The metal end met her skin and she heard a sizzle. Her mind emptied with the searing pain and she heard herself screaming against the gag again. "Try to breathe. Try to stay awake this time."

She felt him pulling the metal along her back, felt him tracing the burning hot point along her skin, and she screamed between ragged breaths, tears flowing down her cheeks as he worked. It went on for what seemed like eternity before he finally lifted the metal from her back - and the pain only just barely lessened.

Cheshire laid there, sobbing, her eyes half shut. William put the metal down on something near her - and she watched him pick up a blood-stained rag and wipe his hands off like nothing more than a car mechanic. He put the rag back where it had been, and lifted up a metal bowl and walked towards her.

"I must admit I took my inspiration from the Order and their original piece of artwork… Although mine has an entirely different purpose," he commented, and she felt a wet cloth hit her back. The relief only lasted an instant before the stinging returned. She let out another broken sob, as he wiped her back down with the cloth. "When I take souls from the recently deceased, it's so much simpler," he sighed. "The connection between body and soul is so _difficult_ to break on a spiritual level… so easy to break on a physical one. Usually the tie between the two is only severed when the body has suffered severe trauma - death, a coma, etcetera."

He put the rag down near her face, and she saw it was stained crimson with blood. He walked around to the other side of the table out of her line of sight, and heard him flipping through papers. She didn't turn her head to watch - she didn't want to know. She squeezed her eyes shut, and just let herself cry. Both in physical and emotional pain.

"In your instance, I'm going to take your soul while your body still lives. In order to do so, I need to create a manner by which I can sever that tie… open that box, reach in, and rip it out. The more I hurt you, the less effort it requires. So the symbol I have just carved into your back serves a double purpose - it is my means of entry… and it brings your soul to the surface so I may easier rip it out by the roots."

Cheshire wanted to beg him to stop - wanted to plead - but she was gagged. She let out a sob again, and weakly tried to struggle - but her body barely had the strength to move.

"For what little it is worth to you, I wish it could have been different, my love."

She heard him speak again, but this time she couldn't understand it. For a moment, she thought maybe she was slipping into unconsciousness again - until she felt something wrap around her like a giant vice - felt something curl around her core, and felt something _pull._

She screamed.

* * *

Lyon stood in the throne room, standing before Dracula, who sat ever-much the same in the shadows as he always did. Dracula had called his lieutenants together. Lyon had his hands folded behind his back and waited. His stillness was alarming to no one here, save maybe the werewolf Duncan, who was ever glancing a mistrustful glare to the side of his head.

"Where is she?" The King demanded.

"I am afraid I do not know," Lyon said quietly. "I have not seen her since she announced her killing of Zadock…" Lyon shook his head. "I visited her chambers but I did not find her there. … Although I did find her domicile radically changed," he added as a side note.

Dracula growled low in his throat and waved his hand dismissively. "And the rest of you?"

They all shook their heads - no one had seen Cheshire in nearly a week.

"She did not leave," one of the other vampires - a smaller dark-skinned man spoke up. "No one saw her exit the Castle. She could not have gotten away."

_How simple minded…_ Came a voice from nowhere. Lyon turned, eyes narrowed - as he heard Dracula stand up from his chair.

"She may not have _walked_ out, but… she left all the same." A swirling hole appeared - a darkness that just seemed to come from a pinpoint in the wall - and swirled open into a void of nothingness. Strange white writing traced the edge of the hole as William stepped out from it, dragging a limp, bloodied, naked form at his side. The hole into nothingness disappeared behind him as quickly as it appeared.

Lyon summoned his weaponry with barely a thought - his golden claws forming to his hands. The others followed suit in arming themselves, and faced down the Warlock as a line. Dracula snarled from behind him. "How _dare_ you show your face…"

"I did not have one for so long, I thought perhaps I'd take it out for a walk," he sneered. "Ah, that made very little sense to anyone but _her,_" he yanked on the arm of the limp form, and threw it forward.

Cheshire.

"-And she isn't exactly listening."

Bolts of power flew from Lyon's left as one of the other spellcasters launched their power at him. William raised his hand and flicked it dismissively, and the bolts evaporated like nothing but mist. He clenched his fingers, and Lyon didn't need to look to know that the strangled noise came from the spellcaster, who crumpled to the ground - and would never stand again. "How droll," the warlock commented.

"So you've come to defeat me," Dracula said with a sneer. "I see things did not go so well with your little prize…"

"Perhaps it did, perhaps it didn't," William laughed sadistically. "I have what I need from her, so I thought perhaps I'd leave you the _remains._ But no, I have not come to fight you... Just yet. That day will come soon. Until then." William folded one arm in front of himself and bowed, and disappeared into a hole that appeared beneath his feet.

Lyon dismissed his weaponry and stepped towards Cheshire - sinking down to his knees near her. She was lying, half on her side - and while he may have shown no outward expression - any shock at the cruelty of mankind had long since been spent many eons before - his heart broke.

Cheshire's back had been burned - with what looked like the tip of a knife, in careful circles, symbols and lines. The burns were still oozing blood - the mystical nature of the wounds kept them from closing and healing like they should be, now that she was back in the castle.

He turned his head quickly as motion to his side caught his attention - Elizabeth, the jade-haired 'niece' of the king. She had removed her cloak, and helped Lyon drape it around Cheshire's shoulders, covering her bleeding back, and around her naked form. Lyon sat the dark-haired woman up gently, her head hanging half-limp. "Cheshire," he said quietly. Her eyes were open - but she stared down at her lap. "Cheshire," he urged.

She moved her head - just slightly - confirming that she _could_ hear him. He gently placed his hand under her chin, and lifted her face to look at him - and his eyes widened - perhaps imperceptibly to some. Her eyes were no longer two-toned. Her white eye had changed… a pair of normal, amber eyes looked back at him, blankly.

"Lyon..?"

* * *

Hollow.

That's how she felt. Hollow.

Hollow with only the pain in her back to keep her company.

Other than that…. She didn't really feel anything at all. She didn't really know if she minded the emptiness.

People were talking around her - her mind traced back through the events of the day. Finding herself in William's home… his seduction, his assault… the burning, the _pull_… and then the nothingness. She remembered the throne room - remembered Lyon….

Her back had been carefully bandaged - no magic in the castle could heal the wounds. "Burned from the outside," the doctor had said. "Then torn open from the _inside. _I can heal the burns, but not the rest of it…"

Her chest was a criss-cross of bandages, and Lyon had given her one of his white shirts. She had muttered something about staining it, but he hadn't listened. She was sitting in one of the pews of his church - 'somewhere safe,' he had said. 'Somewhere where William cannot enter.'

William.

She should feel betrayed- should feel something, anything at what he had done… but she felt nothing. Not really. She knew it was wrong, from a rational sense. Knew she should be upset, but she just felt… void.

She lifted her head, not realizing someone had been talking to her. It was Dracula. She should be afraid of him - but for once, she just blinked. "Sorry?" she said quietly.

Dracula's jaw twitched. He clearly wasn't used to being ignored. Lyon placed a hand on his arm, clearly counseling patience. Dracula repeated himself. "Do you understand now, how foolish it was to trust the Warlock? That you played right into his _game?_"

"I suppose," she responded with a small shrug. "It doesn't matter now."

"What did he do to you?"

"Before or after he burned the symbol on my back with a fire poker?" she asked, matter-of-factly. Her voice felt far away - weak.

Dracula narrowed his eyes just slightly. "After."

"I think he took my soul."

"That isn't _possible,_" Elizabeth said from where she sat in a nearby pew. Duncan was there as well - leaning up against the wall near the jade-haired vampiress. "You're still alive. He can't take souls from the _living._ No one can."

"Yes, _he_ can," Cheshire responded. "He said it just takes a lot more… work."

"How do you feel?" Lyon asked, quietly from next to her.

Confused, she looked up at him and blinked. "Haven't you asked me that already?"

"Yes, but you failed to answer…"

"Oh…" she said, and looked away.

"Cheshire…" Lyon urged.

"Nothing," she said, finally.

"Useless," Duncan growled from the wall. "She's useless."

"Duncan!" Elizabeth scolded.

"It's true, ain't it?!" Duncan snarled. "Now she's got nothin' - you see it - her white eye is gone now - she's lost her 'gift!' She's powerless. That warlock took everything he wanted from the idiot and left her a shell. Let's feed her to something and be done with it."

"I can't believe you'd say such a-"

"Be quiet," Lyon stated with a finality that resonated in the cold walls of the church- and the room fell silent.

"He's right," Dracula finally spoke up - he had been staring at Cheshire with his red eyes. She recognized that should have terrified her - that she should have realized he was up to something - but she didn't care. It didn't matter anymore. "She has no soul - and she has no power. The warlock has her gift now, and with his skills, he'll wield it with more efficacy than she ever did… and I do not think we can stop him as we are…"

"What're you saying, that we should just give up?" Elizabeth asked, nervously.

"No," Dracula smirked just barely. "Perhaps she can still be the key to end what _she_ has started. Perhaps she can still be of use to us…"

* * *

A day or two had passed - she didn't really know. She had spent the time in Lyon's church - barely sleeping. She barely paid attention to time - to whatever was happening around her. The strange little man who called himself a doctor came to check on her wounds - and said they hadn't even tried to heal.

The few times she went to the bathroom, she'd take off the bloodstained shirt and turn to look at her back in the mirror - and no matter how new they were, the bandages were always stained with a crimson copy of the symbols William had etched into her back.

Something like remorse hit her - maybe sadness or hurt - but it faded as soon as it had arrived, passing like a dream.

"She won't last long like this," the doctor had said to Lyon, as if she couldn't hear him. "Bodies weren't… humans aren't designed to live without a soul - mortal or not. Not even the ones here. She'll waste away."

She hadn't really cared.

Leaning back on the pew hurt her back - which constantly stung, no matter what she did - so she was sitting in the pew, leaning forward on the one in front of her her chin resting on her crossed arms, looking up at the cross-like metal structure at the altar. If she had felt like it, she probably would have been contemplating God. Or what was going to happen to her, since she… had no soul.

Cheshire realized Lyon was sitting next to her. "How long have you been there?" she asked.

"A long time," he responded quietly. There was something in his voice that made her turn to look at him. There was.. Sadness in his eyes.

"What's wrong?" she asked, genuinely curious.

"Cheshire… do you not realize what has happened? Do you not realize you are dying..?"

She blinked, and thought about it - and then looked back at the cross and nodded once. "Maybe it's for the best," she said quietly.

"If you die like this," he said. "God cannot save you - neither can the devil. You will be lost... " He put his hand on her shoulder, and she smiled weakly at him. "I do not wish to see that happen to you."

"I deserved this… I should have known that you were wrong. If I was going to side with the warlock I should have stuck to my guns."

"Pardon… When was I wrong..?" Lyon asked, confused.

"When you came to see me before… The day after I had lied to you and Dracula about Zadock."

"... What..?" Lyon asked quizzically. "Cheshire… Precisely when was this you say we spoke…?"

Cheshire let out a breath in a small sigh. "I walked into the throne room, bruised, saying Zadock had hit me - and that I had killed him in self defence."

"Yes, I remember that.."

"Then, the next morning, I woke up - and I was in my loft, not.. Not those blue and silver rooms, they had changed to my old home. You came to see me, and said you knew I had lied, and that Dracula knew as well, so I might as well go tell him…"

"Tell him what..?"

Cheshire sighed again, now annoyed that he was playing dumb. "That William killed Zadock and that I was covering it up."

"Cheshire," Lyon said quietly, and sat forward, getting her attention. She turned to him. "No such conversation happened… the last any of us saw you, was the incident in the throne room after Zadock died… No one - not myself, not Dracula - no one had spoken to you since then… until William returned after he did this to you…"

"That's not-" Cheshire furrowed her brow. "That doesn't make any sense. I made you tea, and you commented on my weird modern art…"

"That was not I," he insisted. "I have not had tea in six hundred years…"

Cheshire shook her head. "That doesn't.." _make any sense_. Her mind finished - but she knew it wasn't true. She remembered what William had said to her, as she stood chained in his home. '_-when I absorb a soul - I take its power, yes, but that is not all. I also take the knowledge - and the memories.'_

It had been the warlock.

It had been him the entire time.

Using Zadock's illusions, William had portrayed himself as Lyon, and fooled her - talked her into betraying Dracula - testing her. She shut her eyes - and even not having a soul didn't protect her from feeling like an idiot.

"It was he," Lyon concluded.

Cheshire nodded again. "He was testing me. I failed."

"My heart weeps for you, my friend.." Lyon reached out and stroked her hair. She smiled weakly. "Thanks…" but it was out of practice. She felt no different. No comfort. Just emptiness.

* * *

It was getting worse.

The empty moments - the time that passed in between her paying attention to the world - were getting longer. She wasn't falling asleep - she was just… zoning out. She was ceasing to care. It was like the hole inside of her was growing, and just eating away at everything else.

Let it come.

Oblivion would be fine… she was most the way there already.

At least the pain in her back would stop.

She had given up wearing a shirt over the bandages - the bandages wrapped around her chest and waist so completely it made no difference. She was only ruining more of Lyon's shirts - the bleeding hadn't shown any sign of stopping since William had done the deed.

People were talking again. Someone grabbed her by the upper arm and lifted her to standing. Suddenly she was being shaken back and forth, and it took her a moment to snap back around and focus on what was happening.

"_Listen to me, child!"_ someone was yelling in her face.

"Stop… shouting… please…" she requested flatly.

Dracula was standing there, gripping her by the upper arms, having just shaken her to rattle her back to reality. He was glowering down at her. "Oh, hello," she greeted him, with as much enthusiasm as one greets a piece of furniture.

Dracula's jaw twitched, and she heard someone snicker from nearby, and Dracula's glower was briefly redirected. The snickering quickly stopped.

"It is time you finally serve some use to me," Dracula stated.

"Sure," she responded emptily. "Whatever."

He raised a hand back to hit her.

"She cannot help it," Lyon said from nearby. "There is no point…"

Dracula growled and lowered his hand, and with a sigh, turned away. "Bring her," he demanded.

Lyon stepped forward, and reaching down, took Cheshire by the hand. "Come now, my friend.." he urged, talking to her like one would talk to an addled elder. She sighed, as he stepped forward and she dutifully followed.

It was like walking in a dream - you know you're moving, but you don't really remember how, or why, or where. You just _are._ Hallways passed her, and she vaguely recounted having seen some of them before…

"What do you plan to do?" Lyon asked from next to her.

"You will see," Dracula responded. He was a shadowy mass of blacks, golds and reds.

"Why must we walk?" someone asked from behind her.

"We must be welcome. Where we go, you cannot fly…" Dracula stated with a finality that clearly stated to everyone not to ask anymore questions.

When they passed through a set of doors - Cheshire looked around the antechamber and faintly smiled. Oh. She knew this place. The soaring stone columns - the walls, the ancient almost pre-Greco architecture, the giant oversized doors. She knew where she was.

"The heart of the castle," she stated, finding a smile on her face. Why, she couldn't say.

Dracula stood in front of the doors, and looked up at the soaring wood structure and spoke to the castle itself. "You knew," the vampire king's deep voice echoed in the stone chamber. "You knew this was his plan. You _knew_ what he intended to do to her. You let it happen. You _want _this. If you think she is strong enough… then fine. I will let you try."

"I do not understand.." Lyon said from next to her.

Cheshire just chuckled - finding some deep irony in all of this. It all made sense now. As soon as she stepped through those doors and found herself at the heart of the castle, she knew what this was all leading up to. She could see it all laid out in front of her - the pieces falling together and assembling the whole image. And it was funny. "I think I do."

The giant wooden doors swung open without a sound - and the group of vampires behind her gasped at what they saw - the giant chamber inside - the pool of blood in the center, black as ink - and the mural of the castle overhead. Dracula turned to look back at her, and Cheshire stepped away from Lyon, letting go of his hand gently.

Dracula narrowed his eyes at her. "You are not afraid."

"I'm not anything," Cheshire replied. "But I see it now."

He nodded once, and turned and walked into the chamber. "The rest of you will stay here. Or you may leave as you like."

Cheshire followed him, and didn't react as the doors slammed shut behind them. She walked towards the edge of the black pool, and stopped.

_You understand._

"I think so," she responded to the voice - the voice that was no more the voice of the Castle than the wind is the voice of the air.

_You will embrace us. _

"No," she responded quietly. "You will embrace me."

_Yes…. You are ready…_

"She is not strong enough," Dracula spoke from over her shoulder. "She will perish."

_Perhaps, my favored son… Perhaps she will. Or perhaps we will finally be free._

Cheshire took hold of the bandage where it ended around her neck, and began to unwind it - wincing as it pulled loose from the bloody wound of her back. She pulled it off, uncaring she was now exposed, and let out a sigh of relief as the cold air of the chamber brushed against the symbol etched into her skin - still an open, fresh wound like it had been carved moments ago. She let the stained bandage fall to the ground near her.

"Either way, will it end?"

_Yes, my child…. Join us in bondage, or in freedom…. But your suffering ends here..._

Cheshire stepped forward into the pool - felt the cold, sticky viscous liquid pool up around her feet. She stepped further, letting herself sink up to her knees. She turned to look back at Dracula. He stood there - looking like a nightmare against the shadows.

"Dracula?" she asked quietly.

"Yes?"

"... I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't even know," she said with a small shrug. "All of it, I guess."

"Know that all I have done… has been at the behest of this castle… This creature who now embraces you..."

She nodded - it was his way of apologizing. She would accept it.

Cheshire reached down, and placed her hand against the cold dark blood - and let her fingers dip into it. She took another step, and it sunk up to her waist - and she felt it barely touching the edges of the symbol carved into her back.

She cried out in pain as the liquid touched her open wound - it was like rubbing alcohol - or worse. Her eyes flew wide as it suddenly took hold of her. The liquid flowed up her back, grabbed her, and in an instant - her world went dark as she was pulled underneath the liquid.

She screamed soundlessly as the pain seared through her - as the symbol on her back flared with pain, as the liquid seeped _into _her. Blood filled her lungs, and she struggled against the dark mass… and it was done.

* * *

Dracula only watched, detached, devoid…

He looked down at the empty pool - not a drop of that dark liquid remained. There at the bottom of the stones, she lay - the crumpled body of the girl Cheshire, who had entered his home as the terrified mortal woman… and now held their fates in her hand. Rather, in the strength of her mind. He doubted the girl had the strength to withstand it.

What was to come would determine his future.

He could step down those stairs, open her throat and betray the creature - betray the _castle._ The thing that called him Master - the thing that he obeyed like a child. He had done so once before - denied the will of the eternal thing that surrounded them - and he had suffered deeply for it.

Dracula sighed.

At least this was sure to be a diversion…


End file.
